


somewhere beyond the sea

by socallmedaisy



Category: BioShock, Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:43:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socallmedaisy/pseuds/socallmedaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1951, Andrew Ryan founded the underwater city of Rapture as a capitalist paradise free of religion and government. With the discovery of a substance that enabled changes to be made to an individual's DNA, the rich members of Rapture society chased genetic perfection while the poor worked to keep the city alive, becoming increasingly dissatisfied with their lot.  Civil war breaks out on New Year's Eve, 1958, and Brittany and her sister find themselves alone in their apartment, trying to figure out how they're going to stay alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a crossover with the video game Bioshock, and takes place in that world. I've tried to explain as much of the world as I can, and I hope that people unfamiliar with the game will be able to enjoy it as an apocafic. Thanks to JJ for being my guinea pig, and Hayley for the "encouragement."

_New Year’s Eve, 1958_

It’s crazy but when she hears the bangs her first thought is that it must be fireworks. 

She remembers fireworks, just about, from the surface, before everything got dark and wet and dank on the ocean floor. There aren’t any fireworks now though, or at least there aren’t supposed to be. There was a city-wide radio broadcast from Sullivan the week before, telling them that fireworks in the wrong hands could be dangerous even with the strongest glass and steel in the world keeping all that water out. 

She thinks she can hear people shouting now too, somewhere outside their apartment. Her sister is still asleep, but her parents aren’t back because it’s not quite midnight yet and they wouldn’t leave the party before they’d seen in the new year. 

She wonders if that’s what the people outside are doing. Seeing in the new year.

The noises get louder, and she crosses the room to check the security lock, making sure it’s down. She’s pretty sure she can see fire through the window, and groups of people moving. There’s a blast of electricity and something flies past the window. Someone, maybe.

“Britt?” Ashley says from behind her, and she spins around quickly, trying to block the window. Ashley blinks at her sleepily and wipes at her eyes. “What time is it? Where are mom and dad?”

“Why don’t you go back to bed?” she says, a little louder than she has to, to cover the sound of glass smashing outside. She hates the way her mind tries to work out which apartment it is from the direction of the sound. “I’ll sit up until mom and dad get home.”

“What’s happening outside?” Ashley asks, taking a step closer, and Brittany just shakes her head, reaching for her hand and herding her back into the apartment and away from the glass. 

She hears something thud against the door and Ashley makes a noise, aware now that something is wrong. “Britt?” she says again, voice tiny. 

“Come on,” Brittany says, and her voice sounds a lot surer than she feels. She takes Ashley back to their bunk beds, trying to ignore the sounds of something knocking against their door, and waits for Ashley to scramble in before she turns and heads for their parents’ bedroom and the safe she knows holds a gun.

+

The fire licks up their door before there’s a thud and the wood starts to splinter. She doesn’t understand why they didn’t break the windows like she heard them do next door, but then she heard that plasmids were supposed to make you stupid after a while, so.

She sees his wrench first, breaking through the wood, and then the scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. There’s blood along one of his eyebrows, dripping down his cheek and smeared on the rough overalls he wears like he’s been working down in Hephaestus or maybe in Neptune’s Bounty. She thinks she can see someone else over his shoulder.

“You some scientists’ kid?” he says, and his voice is rough, like the clothes he wears. 

“Go away,” Brittany says, only her voice is barely above a whisper and the man in the gap in the door just leers at her and rams his wrench into the wood again. 

“I mean it,” Brittany says, voice a little louder. Her finger twitches on the trigger of her dad’s shotgun, and her left arm aches with the effort of keeping it steady.

“What you gonna do?” he says, and she can definitely hear people behind him laughing now.

It feels like time slows down, like she has enough time to take several deep breaths and raise the gun and peer down the barrel, all before his wrench hits the wood again.

And then she pulls the trigger.

+

There’s a woman behind him, and another man. And later there are two women in the sort of masks you’d wear to a ball only one of them has a revolver and the other laughs as Brittany rolls out of the way of the bullets as fast as she can before she manages to get the shotgun up to fire. 

+

She jolts awake to the sound of heavy boots thudding past their apartment and a little girl’s voice asking about angels. She scrambles back away from the door then, catching a glimpse of a diving suit and a huge drill where an arm should be before she throws herself into Ashley’s bunk and pulls her against her side. 

She rests the gun on her knees and tries to rock Ashley backwards and forwards, wishing she knew how to get her to stop crying.

+

Her parents don’t come home, and there are more dead bodies in the gap in their door. One of their windows is smashed, and she has the gun trained on it, her back against the opposite wall.

She can still hear Ashley crying from the room behind her, but she told her to stay there and she has, because she can’t see what the hall in front of their apartment looks like right now. She has to protect her until her parents come home, and protecting her means she doesn’t have to see the charred bodies outside Dr Tenenbaum’s apartment. 

Her eyes slide over to them and stay there, and it’s like she can’t blink no matter what she does.

+

She jolts back to herself when she hears voices and footsteps coming up the stairs. It sounds like a man and a woman, or really, a boy and a girl, and she clutches the gun in her hands and snaps it open quickly to check it’s still loaded. She can’t remember how many shots she’s fired, and it seems like there’s less rounds than there should be in the box next to her on the floor.

The footsteps come closer, and she rubs her hand over her face to try and wake herself up, blinking furiously as she steadies the gun and aims it at the hole in the window. She squints, because the light that’s supposed to be over their door went out, and she can just make out the shape of two people coming towards her. One small, and one weirdly shaped, like a man but with something on his shoulders, only the footsteps aren’t heavy the way they are when a Big Daddy carries a Little Sister and she can’t make sense of it at all.

“She has to be in there. I didn’t— I didn’t see her body out here,” a voice says, and it’s familiar, a little bit broken, though she can’t work out why.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” a male voice says, low and reassuring.

“Shit, her apartment,” the first voice says and the footsteps stop outside. “Those bodies aren’t— That’s not— Fuck, Brittany.”

It’s only when she says her name that her brain finally makes the connection.

“Santana?” she whispers, and then she stands and drops the gun, pulling at the switch for the door desperately. “Santana!”

“Brittany!” she says, outside, but the door won’t open because of the bodies and—

There’s this whooshing sound, and then the bodies are gone, and when the door opens Santana’s there, more relief on her face than she thinks she’s ever seen on one person before.

“I thought you were dead,” Santana says, and then she’s got her right arm around her and pulling her closer, her left arm hanging at her side, and Brittany’s fingers slide up to clutch at her dress, trying to ignore the way the bottom of it is burnt and the arm is ripped off as she sobs into her neck.


	2. if you'll let me

It’s Sam who tells them they should get inside, and Santana shuffles them both forward because she can’t quite make her hands let go. She hears that whooshing sound again, and when she looks Sam’s hand is stretched out in front of him, pointed at the dresser in the corner, and it’s floating through the air towards the gap in the window, where he sets it down carefully.

“Cool,” a little voice says, and it’s only then that she realises Sam has his little brother perched on his shoulder. It reminds her of something else and she shudders, thinking of dead bodies and the sounds of the little girl stabbing the needle into the bodies from a few hours earlier. She pushes the thought away, concentrating on the more obvious thing in front of them.

“You spliced?” she says, as Sam lifts a couch over by the dresser and she remembers the television commercials from Ryan Industries, about lifting things twice your weight with just a wave of your hand. 

Santana shuffles on the spot, her left hand twisted behind her back. “Britt,” she starts to say, and Brittany’s eyes narrow then, when she realises why Santana only hugged her with one arm.

“Show me your hand,” she says softly.

Up on Sam’s shoulders, Stevie clutches a little tighter around Sam’s neck and watches them carefully, eyes owl wide. The moment hangs, and they all wince at the sound of gunshots off in the distance.

“You didn’t see what it was like out there,” Santana says, as she pulls her arm from behind her back. She keeps her hand in a fist, curled towards her chest. “I was at a restaurant with my parents, with their friends. There were gunshots, and—and the men who came in had plasmids, Britt. My parents—” She swallows and her eyes turn hard, “My parents are dead.” She looks down at her hand and turns it over in one quick motion, so it’s palm up. 

Brittany takes a step back at the sight of the flames dancing over her skin. 

She remembers the stories her parents came home from the lab with, when they were testing the early plasmids and it kept sending people over the edge. Her mom still has the faint traces of a burn down her arm, even after all the treatment she’d received from Santana’s father at the clinic.

“Your parents are dead?” Brittany says. Somewhere in the back of her head she knows that means hers might be too because they’re still not home.

Santana nods and there’s this fierceness in her eyes that Brittany thinks might be for show. “But I wasn’t going to be. The plasmid machine was busted open when I got outside. I guess maybe the men did it, but I don’t know. I took as many as I could carry,” she explains, and it’s only then Brittany notices the bag she has on her back. She swings it down off her shoulder and drops it at her feet. 

“You know what splicing can do to you,” Brittany says, “My parents told me about the trials—”

“We only took one each,” Sam puts in, turning away from where he’s been watching the door. They hear running feet and all shrink back a little. Whoever it is passes them by.

“We just want to protect ourselves,” Santana says with a glance towards the door, “I don’t think what’s happening out there is gonna go away. We heard some radio broadcasts while we were getting here. Some guy calling himself Atlas. I think this is for real. Ryan kept trying to override his signal but it wasn’t working.” She wraps her right arm around her middle, and holds her left hand, her plasmid hand, out in front of her, like she doesn’t quite trust it not to set her clothes on fire. Brittany looks again at the burns on her dress.

“My parents didn’t come home,” Brittany says, and her voice sounds tiny to her ears. “Ashley’s asleep in her room. I don’t— I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.” She can feel angry hot tears at the corners of her eyes.

Santana reaches for her with her left hand and then stops herself, her fingers twitching before she drops her hand to her side. “I had to come find you,” she says after a second, turning away from Sam when she says it. “You’re the only person I had left, Britt.” 

Brittany looks at her, at how small and scared she looks despite the fire crackling around her hand. Her eyes are wide and haunted, and she wonders exactly how she saw her parents die. She looks again at the burns on her dress. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” she says, and then Santana has her in a one armed hug again, and she squeezes her eyes shut and buries her face in her hair.

+

They only pull apart when Stevie says, “Sammy, I’m sleepy.” Sam reaches for him with one arm and sets him down on the floor, and Brittany steps away from Santana self consciously, wiping at her eyes. 

“You can take the bottom bunk back there,” she says, pointing towards the door to the bedroom she shares with Ashley. “I don’t think I could sleep right now if you paid me,” she says over his head, and Sam just huffs out a laugh while Santana nods.

“Kids,” Sam says, and then puts a hand on his brother’s shoulder to guide him towards the room.

They just look at each other while Sam’s gone, both of their eyes sliding over the other like they’re checking they’re each okay. Santana’s been her best friend ever since their parents dropped them at the same day care when they were eleven, after Quinn had gone and she was all alone again, and she tries to ignore the squirmy feeling in her stomach when Santana’s eyes rake over her body, before they stop at the blood dried on her dress. 

“Is that yours?” she asks and Brittany just shakes her head, before Santana looks away from her, not quite managing to control her wince.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” she says quietly. Santana’s eyes go far away and she knows she can probably see it in her head again, because she can still see the way that first man in the overalls and the scarf had been blown apart by the slug she’d fired into his stomach. 

“Everything will be okay,” she says, as they listen to the sounds of more explosions downstairs.

Santana curls her arm around herself. She’s not sure that either of them believe it.

+

“So what’s the plan?” Sam says, when he comes back. She doesn’t know Sam that well, because his parents are both engineers down in Hephaestus and they don’t really cross paths, but she’s glad he’s here when he immediately goes back over to peer through the gap in the door, left over from the man’s wrench the night before, like he’s keeping watch.

“Do you still want to go after Stacy?” Santana says, and then whispers, “Someone... took Sam’s baby sister.”

Brittany claps a hand over her mouth, horrified, because she’s heard the radio reports and the rumours. There’s only one reason why anyone takes little girls in Rapture. 

“I have to,” Sam says fiercely, flexing his hand into a fist so that the drawers of the dresser rattle a little. “She’s my sister, and they’re not going to turn her into one of those monsters.” 

“I saw one,” Brittany says, shuddering a little at the memory. “Last night, I saw a Little Sister and her Big Daddy. They came for the bodies in the door. She had this needle and she—” her voice hitches over the words, “—she stuck the needle in the dead bodies and then she—she drank the blood.” Santana’s mouth falls open at her words, and all the colour drains from Sam’s face. “When she was done the Big Daddy lifted her up on her shoulder and they went away. She was talking about angels and telling him to hurry up. I could see her eyes glowing through the gap in the door.” 

She shudders again. Her mom had explained it to her, the first time they’d seen a Little Sister and a Big Daddy at the market in Arcadia. She knew it was the only way to harvest the ADAM to enable genetic modifications, to splice the plasmids into their DNA and evolve into better people, only she’s still not sure what’s so wrong about living your life just the way you are. 

(Her eyes slide over to Santana’s hand, still covered in flames.) 

The little barefoot girl she’d seen in the tatty dress had looked younger than Ashley. 

“Fuck,” Santana says, looking over at Sam. He just shakes his head.

“I have to get her back before they do that to her,” he says, and then shrinks back from the door when two security bots fly past. Santana shoves Brittany behind her until they’re gone.

“If you go there they’ll kill you,” Brittany says, “No one gets a girl back once they’ve been taken.” She remembers Quinn and tries to push the thought away, of seeing her again, after—

“I have to try,” Sam says, as Santana looks backwards and forwards between them, trying to work out who’s going to win.

“We should just stay here and wait for it to stop. Security will get it back under control, there can’t be that many of these Atlas people—”

“I’m not sitting around waiting for them to turn my sister into a monster!” Sam says, and then Santana steps between them to try and calm him down.

+

Her parents have a pretty well stocked refrigerator, so they’re not going to run out of food for a while, but they still try and eat as little as they can, just in case. Sam paces like a caged animal, and Ashley and Stevie play together in their room, just far enough back so that they can’t hear what’s going on.

They watch the group of people come for Dr Suchong out the window, all of them in overalls and scarves wrapped around their heads. They flood up the stairs and fill the hallway, and even across the gap in the middle of the block they can hear everything they’re saying. She hears something about little girls and clutches Ashley closer to her when she comes out to see what’s going on. 

One of the men throws fireballs at the door, while others blast the security bots Suchong sends out with electricity, before they do something to them that makes them fight the other bots while they all laugh and jeer. 

“Everyone has plasmids now,” Santana says, nodding at the bag on the floor where she’d left it earlier, but Brittany ignores her, remembering the warnings of her parents.

Suchong manages to fight them off, him and the two boys that work in his lab with him throwing back as many plasmid powers as are thrown at them, and it takes a while for her to work out that the taller one is Mike, only he’s bulked up now with the help of whatever Gene Tonics Suchong has given him so he looks a little crazy as he laughs and throws fireballs from his hands. The other is Arthur, only he’s not in his wheelchair and she doesn’t want to know what Suchong did to him to fix his legs, because she can hear him laughing over the sound of everything else and it cuts through her and makes her shiver, until Santana wraps an arm around her to try and get her to stop.

+

A group of splicers come for them on the second day, or at least she thinks it’s the second day because the lights outside have brightened and dimmed once through their cycle, the same way they always do. Sam manages to pull the dresser to them so they can take cover, but Brittany can’t get a clear shot with the shotgun, so Santana pushes her left hand up and throws fire at the door, until all they can hear is screaming and there’s no one shooting at them anymore. 

They have to get four bucket’s worth of water out of the tap to stop the flames, and when they’re out they realise the door is gone, and then Sam puts as much furniture in front of the gap as he can and they all sit up all night, Santana pressed into her side, trembling against her.

+

They try the television, and all they get is a loop of a message from Andrew Ryan, urging all citizens to stay inside until security can put down the rebels. He doesn’t call it an uprising but the tenseness in his voices says that it is, and he says that Ryan Industries is withdrawing all plasmids for sale until the riots have ended.

Three hours later the broadcast cuts in with an advert from Fontaine Futuristics, saying they’re still selling.

“This isn’t going to end well,” Sam mutters, before he waves his hand and the button presses in, turning it off.

+

She passes out on the third day, exhaustion finally catching up with her, and she wakes up in her parents’ bed, her body curled into Santana’s stomach as she sits up behind her holding her close. 

“Sorry,” Santana says self-consciously when Brittany looks up at her in confusion. “You were shouting in your sleep and this was the only way you’d stop.” Her right hand falls away from where it had been settled in Brittany’s hair.

“It’s okay,” Brittany murmurs before she thinks better of it, and reaches to pull her back, avoiding her left hand.

+

On the fourth day they run out of bullets, and Sam offers to go and try to find a vending machine to buy more.

“There’s one two halls over,” Brittany says, while Santana pulls him into a fierce hug and tells him to be careful. They sit in silence while he’s gone, staring over the barricade Sam built up again before he left, neither of them saying anything except to tell Stevie to go back to his room when he comes to ask where his brother is.

Sam comes back what feels like hours later, a tommy gun hanging from his shoulder and his pockets and the bag holding the plasmids stuffed with boxes of bullets. There’s blood dripping down his arm, and Santana runs for the bandages they’d found in the kitchen without him having to ask.

“I saw a Big Daddy when I was out there. Crouched over the body of a dead Little Sister, and I swear he was crying about it,” Sam winces as Santana applies pressure to his wound. “I didn’t know there was anyone left alive inside that suit to cry.”

“I guess even monsters have feelings,” Brittany says, with a shrug.

+

By the fifth day they’re down to canned food, and Sam asks again about going to find his sister. 

“If we go, we go together,” Santana says, gripping Brittany’s hand as Stevie and Ashley pick at the contents of a can of sardines.

Brittany remembers Quinn and wants to argue with him again, but when she opens her mouth she finds she doesn’t know what to say.

Sam watches his brother and shakes his head, “If you don’t want to go I’ll go without you,” he says, and then he paces back over to the barricade by the door to keep watch.

+

That night the power goes out, and all the lights splutter and die. They stay awake all night, the only light they have to see by coming from the flames around Santana’s hand. They stay pressed together side by side with the wall against their backs and the kids next to them, hoping they’ll still be alive by the morning.

The lights come back on in the early hours, and Ashley screams at the man and woman in the masks outside of their building before Brittany can clamp a hand over her mouth. There’s a fight, and Brittany shoots the woman before the man gets away, and when she looks, Ashley’s skin is paler than usual and her mouth is open like she’s still screaming, even though no noise comes out.

+

After six days, all she can smell is the bodies piled up in the hallways outside and she’s never felt more claustrophobic and aware of all the water pressing down on their city. She’s beginning to wonder what her parents were running away from that they’d go all the way to the bottom of the ocean to escape it.

“I don’t think we can stay here,” she says to Santana, while they keep watch as Sam sleeps. “I think my parents are dead, and we can’t stay here.” She can feel panic bubbling up in her throat as Santana looks at her, sadness hiding deep within her eyes.

“Maybe we could get out,” Santana whispers after a while, once they’ve held their breath as someone runs past outside. “Maybe we could take a Bathysphere to the surface and leave it all behind.”

“You’ve been to Ryan Amusements and seen the exhibits; the surface is full of awful people who want to take everything from us,” Brittany whispers, and then wants to laugh when she looks outside and sees a woman in a dirty dress crouched over one of the bodies, going through the pockets.

“I’m not dying here,” Santana says, and Brittany watches her eyes fall on the bag of plasmids when she says it.

+

By the seventh day they need to leave to find food, and Stevie keeps whining to Sam about how he wants a pep bar and something to drink that isn’t water. 

“We can’t exactly go to the store right now, kid,” Santana says, and Brittany knows it’s because of the being on edge constantly for a week but she still winces at the harshness in her voice.

“We do need to find food though,” Sam points out, and Brittany knows he’s right, but that doesn’t mean she wants to go out there. “And we can look for Stacy.”

“They’ll have her at Fontaine Futuristics,” she says quietly, as everyone’s eyes swivel to look at her. “Ryan took over some of the labs there after Fontaine died. Or, I think so anyway. That’s when my parents got transferred to plasmid production and I heard them talking about it.”

“You’re sure about that,” Sam says, and there’s this note of desperation in his voice. 

Brittany nods. “She’ll be there.” She doesn’t tell them about visiting work with her dad when she was little and seeing Quinn there, how she’d tried to get to her but four security bots had appeared and almost shot at her. She doesn’t tell them about the way Quinn’s eyes had glowed just like the little girl she’d seen on New Year’s Eve. She doesn’t tell them about how when they’d got home her mom had shouted at her dad for an hour and demanded to know what he was doing, taking her there. She doesn’t tell them about how Quinn wasn’t Quinn anymore.

“Then we’re going to Fontaine Futuristics,” Santana says, and the flames around her hand flare nervously, like she can’t help it.

+

She tells Ashley they’re going to find their parents in their lab, and though she hates lying to her it’s better than telling her they’re going on a suicide mission to find Sam’s sister before the scientists her parents work with turn her into someone who won’t even remember Sam’s name.

“You have to stay close to me, okay?” she says, when she’s bundling Ashley into another jumper and jacket, as though the temperature in Rapture isn’t completely controlled. “As close as you can.” There’s this edge in her voice she can’t get rid of and Ashley looks up at her with wide, fearful eyes.

“I want mom and dad,” she says, as her bottom lip starts to tremble, and Brittany feels the tears in her own eyes, the corners of her vision going blurry.

“So do I, Ash,” she says as she pulls her into a hug, kissing the top of her head as she holds her close. “So do I.”

+

Santana reaches for the bag of plasmids, and then stops with a glance at Brittany. “Do you want to—”

“No,” Brittany says, and clutches her shotgun. She glances down at Ashley by her side, thinking of the example she’s setting. “I don’t want any of that in my DNA.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Santana says, “And we’re still okay. It hasn’t—”

“No,” Brittany says again, cutting her off, and Santana just sets her jaw and lifts the bag onto her shoulder, nodding once as she turns away and paces over to Sam by the door.

+

They’re almost out of Olympic Heights before they meet anyone, though they see a lot of scared eyes peering over barricades like their own. Sam leads the way with Stevie on his shoulders, and she makes sure Ashley is in front of her as she and Santana bring up the rear, Santana with her left hand out in front of her, ready to defend them. Her gun’s loaded but she has to keep checking, snapping it open nervously before closing it again.

Everything’s changed so much in just seven days. There’s spray paint all over the walls, thick white letters spelling out ATLAS and TAKING WHAT’S OURS here and there. There’s a broken vending machine sparking as it lies on it’s side, a couple of blue EVE syringes glinting in the dispenser at the bottom. Sam takes them and shoves one of them into his pocket without stopping. 

She knows they need to inject themselves with EVE to use their plasmids, but she still shudders at the thought, particularly when Santana takes the one Sam offers her and tucks it into her bag.

She knows it’s like an addiction, because she heard her mom and dad talking about the test subjects who’d been denied it, how they’d broken out of a ward and tried to kill a Little Sister for the ADAM she was harvesting, figuring it was stronger than the diluted EVE they were given. She doesn’t want that to happen to her friends. She doesn’t want that to happen to Santana.

She’s so busy staring at the place where she knows the syringe is that she doesn’t notice the two thugs in front of them, until Santana throws out her right hand to get her to stop, and then she tugs Ashley back to her, bringing the gun up as she does so.

“We haven’t got anything worth stealing,” Sam says, holding his hands up placatingly, and Brittany notices the way Santana hides her hand behind her back so they won’t see the flames. Sam’s telekinesis plasmid leaves no trace on his hands, except for the way it blurs a little when he moves it, but the two men in front of them don’t seem to notice.

One of them lifts his hand up and it’s only then that Brittany sees the revolver he’s holding. She takes half a step in front of Santana without thinking.

“You with Atlas or Ryan?” one of them says through the rough cloth covering his face, and Sam startles, squinting at them.

“Finn?” he says, and then looks at the one without the gun. “Noah? What are you doing?”

“Getting what’s ours,” the taller boy—Finn?—says. “Why are you up here with the rich bastards?” He squints past Sam, “Who’re they?”

“My friends,” Sam says, trying to step in front of them. “We’re just looking for our families, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Your dad’s fighting with us,” the other boy, the one Sam had called Noah, says. “Everyone from engineering is. Why should we work to keep this city going and get nothing in return?”

Sam goes pale, his eyes switching between them. “My dad joined Atlas?”

“Yeah,” Finn says, “And if you’re not with us you’re against us,” he lifts the gun and shrugs a little. “Sorry Sam,” and then he pulls the trigger.


	3. here's what i'll do

She doesn’t remember exactly what happens next. 

She remembers pulling the trigger and one of the boys taking a step back from the impact of the shot, just because of how close they were standing. She sees flames, and remembers Santana’s voice yelling as she pulled Ashley away from them, throwing herself in front of her. 

Brittany remembers wondering why she hadn’t done that herself. 

She remembers Sam screaming over and over again and a bolt of electricity shooting from his hand and hitting Finn—which makes no sense because he spliced telekinesis not electro bolt—remembers Finn’s whole body shaking and his eyes rolling back in his head, and then she aimed her gun at him too and watched him get blown away.

+

Santana’s the one who manages to pry her fingers off the shotgun, and she shouts and almost pulls it up to point at her before she remembers who it is. 

“Brittany,” Santana says, only it sounds like it’s coming from far away.

“Ash,” Brittany says quietly, then, “Ashley!” and then her sister is there scrambling into her arms, fresh tears on her cheeks as she hugs her tightly. “Oh thank you, thank you,” Brittany says, but she doesn’t know who she’s thanking until Santana says, “I got her, it’s okay,” softly, like she’s embarrassed by it.

She holds her sister for a long time, until she becomes aware of Sam crying somewhere to her left, and when she looks over Ashley’s shoulder and sees Sam clutching Stevie’s unmoving body she just pulls her sister closer and tries to cover her eyes.

+

Finn’s bullet hit Stevie, and Sam won’t let go of his body. He hunches over him, cradling him in his arms, all of Stevie’s limbs hanging down loosely, in this way that they shouldn’t.

“I’ve lost them both,” Sam cries, over and over, “I’ve lost them both.” He rocks on his knees, the sobs wracking his body, and Brittany turns Ashley away, so she won’t have to see.

“We’ll get Stacy back,” Santana whispers when she crouches down to wrap her arms around him, but that only makes him cry harder. “We’ll get her back, Sammy. I promise.”

Brittany knows better than to make promises she can’t keep, so she just clutches Ashley’s hand in hers and watches them, wishing she knew what to do.

+

It’s a while before they can get Sam to move, and he finally lets go of Stevie’s body when Santana tells them that he can either die here or he can get his sister back, and then he lurches to his feet and heads for the nearest bulkhead into the tunnels. He spins the lock quickly, pausing as it releases before he stepping through without waiting to see if they’re following.

Brittany adjusts her grip on Ashley’s hand and looks over at Santana.

“After you,” she says awkwardly, bringing her left hand up in front of her again, and Brittany does as she says.

+

“We have to get to Apollo Square,” Sam says, glancing at the signposts at an intersection. Ashley peers out at the fish swimming past the glass outside while Santana checks behind them, making sure they’re not being followed. “We can take the metro to Fontaine’s after that.”

“Assuming the trains are still working,” Brittany says, because she feels like someone has to, and Sam just looks past her and carries on walking, clutching his tommy gun as he takes the tunnel on the left after glancing into the right to make sure no one’s there.

+

“When did Sam splice the electro bolt?” she asks Santana later, when Sam stops at the bulkhead door into Apollo Square up ahead and waits for them to catch up.

“I don’t know,” Santana says, chewing at her bottom lip and offering her a shrug. “It’s really not as bad as you think, you know.”

She watches Sam slam the butt of his gun into the wheel to get it to spin, taking in his pale face and the dirty tear marks down his cheeks. “Okay,” she says, and Santana shakes her head, looking away.

“I meant the plasmids aren’t as bad as you think,” she tries again, and Brittany just nods before she pushes Ashley in front of her and heads for Sam.

+

Apollo Square is like a warzone. There’s a blast of electricity when they get the door open, and Sam has to dive backwards to avoid it, firing his gun blindly in case someone’s coming for them. She hears Santana swear as they all take cover at the edges of the door, and she makes sure Ashley is behind her, far away from the shooting. 

She knows the bulkhead doors are built the way they are in case part of the city is destroyed, so that when all the water rushes in it’ll stop at the doors and the rest of the city will be safe, but she’s never been more grateful for several thick inches of steel than when she tucks Ashley into the corner and knows she’ll be safe.

“How the hell are we supposed to get to the metro?” Santana yells over the noise. A couple of bullets hit the metal door frame and spark as they all shrink back. She gets the vague sense of a battle being fought around one of the train lines, but there’s fire and ice and electricity everywhere and it’s all a blur.

Sam peers around the door again gingerly, trying to make sense of what’s going on. “I think Atlas is trying to hold the transport links,” he says after a moment, “They look like engineers and dockers.”

“Oh great, well now we know who they are it’ll be easy,” Santana hisses, and Brittany lays a hand on her arm, hoping it’ll get her to be quiet. Santana shrugs out of the touch, and Brittany pretends not to feel the twist of hurt in her chest.

Sam ignores her and points over towards the left, “Ryan’s forces are trying to get them away from the trains, look.”

“No thank you,” Santana murmurs, but after a second her eyes slide over to look anyway. “So what, you just expect us to steal a fucking train in the middle of a firefight?”

“Something like that,” Sam says with a grim smile, and Brittany almost wants to laugh, except she thinks she’s forgotten how.

+

They get nowhere near the train. 

They all duck through the door together, and even though no one is interested in them, there’s still a couple of rounds of machine gun fire in their general direction, in case they might be reinforcements for either side. They dive behind a wall and Sam tries to cover them with his gun while Brittany desperately checks her sister over for bullet wounds, even though she insists she’s fine. 

“We can’t stay here, Sam,” Santana says, but Sam’s eyes are fixed on the train, like he can’t see anything else.

Brittany finally tears her eyes away from her sister, and it’s only then that she sees the poster on the wall behind them, that Sam’s half covering with his body. She nudges Santana and points to it, and Santana’s eyes widen in disbelief. The past week taught her not to believe in good luck or coincidences, and she hates the way hope dances on Santana’s face.

(Then she remembers that she’s still with Santana and, well.)

“Sam!” Santana says again, and he turns to look at her, a wild glint in his eye. “Stacy,” she says, and taps the wall by his head. 

The poster says LITTLE SISTER ORPHANAGE and it’s not far from here, in Hestia. Sam’s face lights up when he sees it, and he gestures the way he wants them to go before they all nod and make a break for it, Brittany carrying Ashley in her arms as they all stay hunched over to avoid the bullets.

+

It takes longer than it usually would to make their way across the square and through the tunnels, leaving the sounds of gunfire behind them as they run between the ruins of buildings and try to keep all their angles covered. There are no houses here, only shops and other businesses with vending machines tucked into the gaps between them, and all the glass windows are smashed, the cash registers knocked over with their empty drawers hanging open.

She doesn’t understand how this happened in a week, and Ashley clutches at her hand and stares around them silently as they pick their way between the ruins, her face pale under the street lamps.

+

They almost run into a gang of Atlas men coming out of a liquor store, and Santana swings her bag off her shoulder and hits one in the face with a heavy clunk, watching him stagger backwards before bringing her hand up and blasting him with flames. He lets out this scream that Brittany doesn’t think she’ll ever forget, and she cradles Ashley against her chest, hoping irrationally that she can’t hear it. 

She squeezes her eyes shut when Sam starts shooting, but she can still hear the screams and smell their flesh burning. She thinks she can taste it on her tongue, and she wants to spit to get the taste out of her mouth. 

Sam kicks open a door to their left and Santana grabs her hand to pull her through it, and then they’re all leaning against the wall, breathing hard as Santana stares at her, like there’s something wrong.

“Are you okay?” Santana says, and then her hands are on her cheeks, her thumbs smoothing over the bones. “Britt?”

She doesn’t know how to tell her that she’s so far beyond okay that she doesn’t have the words to explain.

+

Sam pulled them into a grocery store, and they find a couple of tins of food at the back of a shelf, even though almost everything else has been taken. Brittany gives her share to Ashley, and after she’s taken a couple of bites Santana does too, smiling at Brittany over the top of Ashley’s head shyly, until Brittany’s cheeks are burning and she has to look away.

+

“I’m so tired,” Brittany murmurs. It’s the kind of exhaustion you feel all the way down to your bones, and she doesn’t think she could stand up even if she wanted to. She can’t remember the last time she got more than a couple of hours sleep, or when she managed to sleep more than two days in a row. 

Her eyes are heavy, and nothing looks real anymore, not the bodies or the smashed windows or her own hands when she stares down at them, clenched around the barrel of her gun.

Santana talks to Sam in a low voice while Brittany watches, and Ashley curls up with her head in Brittany’s lap and nods off, which is what decides the argument. They find a bathroom and a storeroom at the back with a few more odd tins of food in it, and then Sam uses his telekinesis to lift some of the shelves in front of the door, to give them a little extra protection.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Santana says, and then glares at Sam when he opens his mouth to protest. “Both of you need to sleep,” she says, setting her bag down carefully by the back wall and picking a loose pipe up from the floor before swinging it experimentally.

“Wake me in a few hours,” Sam says, and Santana nods before she crosses the room to their makeshift barricade, her fingers tightening around the metal pipe she holds.

+

She wakes in the night because she has the dream about the man with the wrench again, swinging at the door trying to get through. She twists and turns trying to get away but she’s stuck, and she tries to scream but no sound will come out. She struggles against whatever’s holding her back, and then she realizes it’s an arm holding her down and trying to keep her still.

“Britt. Britt! I’ve got you, Britt,” Santana says, and when she opens her eyes, Santana’s desperately trying to keep her still while Ashley blinks at her from her place next to her on the floor. 

She stops moving almost at once, breathing hard as Sam aims his gun out into the store, as though he thinks whatever noise Brittany was making is going to attract more thugs with plasmids. 

“I’m sorry,” Brittany breathes, and Santana just nods, her eyes lingering on her face as she lets her go now she’s sure she’s okay. “I’m sorry for shouting, Sam,” she says to him, watching him barely acknowledge her as he keeps his eyes trained on the doorway, like he’s expecting them to be attacked at any moment.

“You were shouting for Santana,” Ashley says after a moment, as she pushes herself closer again, her head finding Brittany’s lap. “But she was right here.”

Brittany can feel herself blush, and she’s grateful that it’s dark in here so Santana can’t see. When she finally looks up at Santana, the orange flow from her hand is reflected in her eyes, and they look larger than usual, darker, somehow, too. “I came as fast as I could,” Santana says after a second, and then Brittany has to look away, because it feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest. 

And then she remembers the way Sam’s friend’s chest had collapsed when she shot him and she doesn’t want to feel anything ever again.

+

Ashley’s really the only one who sleeps, and Brittany sits and watches Santana watching the rest of the store, trying to judge what time it is from the brightness of the one light that hasn’t been smashed. 

She thinks it’s about 2am when she hears Sam crying, and Santana stiffens over by the barricade, her whole body twitching like she wants to go over to him but she doesn’t know how. Brittany just pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them, looking away from Santana to pull the jacket Ashley is using as a blanket a little tighter around her, thinking that she knows the feeling.

+

She comes awake to Santana crouching in front of her, her face gentle in the gloom. She only just manages to stop herself from scrambling backwards, stilling at the soft look in Santana’s eyes. It’s one she’s almost forgotten.

Santana’s hand is warm where it presses against her arm, and she won’t quite meet her eyes when she moves to let her stand up. “Sorry,” she says, “But we need to move on,” and then she stares at her like she wants to say something else, only no more words come out.

“Yeah,” Brittany says softly, pressing the heel of her hand into her eyes as she reaches for Ashley with her other, like she’s checking she’s still there. “Yeah, okay.”

+

Santana stuffs the leftover tins of food into her bag before they leave, and Brittany catches a glimpse of a silvery plasmid syringe inside, and some bigger bottles that she thinks might be gene tonics. She tears her eyes away as Santana closes the flap and hefts it onto her shoulder, pushing her other arm through the second strap. 

“Just in case,” she says, when she catches Brittany looking.

“Just in case,” Brittany echoes, though what she really wants to ask is _in case of what?_ because she doesn’t understand what could possibly be worse than this.

+

They’re not far from the orphanage when Sam throws his hand out and Brittany almost walks into it. She stops and brings her shotgun up on reflex, her eyes darting around the deserted street in front of them to check for enemies. She almost shoots a trashcan in an alley before Santana steps past Sam and crouches down, examining the thing Sam’s pointing at.

Ashley gasps and clutches at her legs, hiding behind them.

The diving helmet is cracked across the front, the thick material of the suit twisted and melted from the flames. The tank has fallen off his back and lays by his side, the valve twisted open like someone was trying to see inside. 

“Someone killed a Big Daddy,” Sam says, voice hushed, and Brittany looks at him sharply, seeing the fascination on his face as he stares at the huge drill that covers the man’s arm. Or is the man’s arm. She’s not sure.

Santana reaches forward, her hand disappearing behind the metal, and then she hears the snap of buckles unfastening and the drill falls into the cobbles with a heavy thud, spinning a half turn just from the force. 

She ignores Sam bending to pick it up, having to use both hands instead of the one the Big Daddy uses, and stares at the cracks in the helmet, finding a gap big enough to see skin and half of a sightless eye staring back at her. She honestly didn’t know what she thought was inside the suit, but when she manages to get the helmet off it’s just a man, a man with no tongue and a weirdly misshapen throat, but a man just like any other.

A single sob escapes her and she covers her hand with her mouth, like she’s trying to cram it back in. She drops the helmet and watches it roll over to rest against the man’s heavy boots, and Santana glances at it in confusion while Sam gives up trying to lift the drill.

+

It’s only when they’re starting to walk away that she wonders where the little girl he was protecting went, and even if she’s not really a little girl anymore she doesn’t deserve to be out here alone.

(She steps a little closer to Santana and grips Ashley’s shoulder hard as she walks.) 

No-one does.

+

Everything starts to look sort of shabby the closer they get to Hestia. The open space of the square gives way to crowded buildings, all barricaded up as the lights flicker over head. They see more than one pair of eyes peering out from the rubble, and she supposes even in the middle of a war there’s nowhere else for the people who live here to go. 

“I’ve never been here before,” Santana says, and her eyes are wide, taking in all the differences between the slums in front of them and their homes in Olympus Heights.

“I have,” Sam says softly, his eyes lingering over one apartment block before he grips his gun a little tighter and picks up his pace.

“Come on,” he says. “Fontaine’s Home for the Poor is just around the corner,” and Santana nods, glancing over at Brittany to make sure she’s following.

+

They only just manage to avoid the machine gun fire from the turret by the door, a security camera over their heads beeping before they manage to get out of sight. 

“Shit,” Santana shouts, and dives back into the alley, grabbing for Brittany and fisting her hand into her dress to drag her back. She’s pretty sure she feels the breeze from the bullet that just misses her, embedding into the wall where her head was a moment before. She takes another step back and Santana curls her body around her protectively, until their faces are inches apart as they both try to catch their breath.

Santana’s eyes dart down to her lips and then back up, and Brittany looks down at Ashley instead, making sure she’s okay.

“That doesn’t look like standard issue security,” Santana says after a moment, her voice a little higher than usual, and Sam just gives her a look that says no shit.

“Maybe they’re defending the girls they took,” Sam says. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and electricity begins to crackle around his hand. “I can handle the camera, and maybe the turret, but you gotta be ready to run.”

“Run to where, Sam, the door is shut,” Santana says desperately, but he’s already leaning around the corner, his plasmid hand leading the way. A bolt shoots from his hand but the turret carries on firing.

Sam groans and staggers back, the electricity fading around his skin. She thinks he’s been shot, and she can tell by the way Santana shouts his name that she does too, but then Sam reaches into his pocket and comes up clutching an EVE hypo, not sparing them a glance before he flicks the cap off and positions the needle over the vein visible in his wrist. 

She covers Ashley’s eyes with her hand, like she hasn’t seen worse things than someone shooting up, but she can’t tear her own eyes away as Sam grimaces and pushes the plunger at the top, the blue liquid inside the syringe disappearing into his blood. He leans back against the wall and exhales gratefully, the electricity sparking around his fingers again.

“Shit,” she thinks she hears Santana mumble.

“I’ll get it this time,” Sam says, flexing his fingers, and then he throws his hand out again and the shooting stops.

“Well now what,” Santana hisses when no-one moves. “There’s still a security camera. And how the fuck do we get in.”

Brittany just looks at her helplessly, but Sam shrugs, smiling in that same way he had back in the Square, the way that doesn’t reach his eyes. “How about we knock?” he says, and Santana rolls her eyes.

“So polite and shit, even in the middle of a war,” she says sarcastically, and then she pulls the shotgun out of Brittany’s hand and fires a shot into the security camera, so it crackles and splutters, useless. “You knock and I’ll shoot,” she says to Sam, handing the gun back to Brittany and making the fire flare around her hand.

“Stay with me,” Brittany mumbles to her sister, and waits for her to nod.

+

The turret smokes by the door, and the mechanism that makes the camera move just whines uselessly above their heads. Sam bangs with the flat of his hand, Santana checking behind them in case anyone is following, and then a woman’s—girl’s?—voice says, “We don’t have anything. There are only little girls here. Please—please go away.”

There’s the sound of people moving, and then another voice says, “I don’t know how you disabled the security but we’re no pushovers. Y’all better move on and go look somewhere else for your victims.”

Santana’s mouth drops open, her hand falling down to her side as the flames die. “Mercedes?” she says and then repeats it a little louder.

There’s silence and then, “Lopez? Santana Lopez?”

There’s the sound of deadbolts sliding and a clunk as the security lock disengages, and then the door slowly begins to open. Brittany clutches her shotgun and gets the vague impression of a brown haired girl their own age looking out at them wide-eyed before Santana takes a step forward, staring hard at the darker girl standing next to the first.

“It really is you,” Santana says, blinking quickly like she’s trying to clear her eyes. Brittany’s never seen the girl before, and she feels something in her tighten when Santana gives the other girl a quick hug, sort of awkwardly like it’s not something they’re used to.

“Come inside and shut the door,” the girl says, and they both step back to let them in, Sam glancing over his shoulder just once before the door slams shut.

+

She’s not sure if she imagines it or not but Santana only seems like she’s talking to her when she says, “Our dads used to work together at the medical pavilion. We’re friends, or well we were. I haven’t seen her for a long time.” She just nods and clutches Ashley’s shoulder a little tighter.

“My dad came to work at the free clinic here,” Mercedes puts in as the other girl, the one Brittany still doesn’t know the name of, leads them deeper into the building. They pass empty dorm rooms, rows of bunk beds standing empty in the dark. “I guess we lost track of each other.”

“Is that how you ended up here when all this went down?” Santana asks, gesturing back the way they’ve come. 

Mercedes nods. “My dad made us move here too. We were living in the Artemis Suites, one step above Pauper’s Drop, to be closer to the patients. And I guess that’s what I’m doing here now. I haven’t seen my parents for— I don’t know where my parents are.”

They’ve reached a door, and the girl who’s name Brittany still doesn’t know knocks four times, in a weirdly musical pattern. There’s two knocks back from the other side and then the door opens, and Brittany has to blink against the bright light that floods into the hallway.

The room looks like it used to be a kitchen, but it’s been made over into a makeshift dormitory, some of the bunk beds dragged in and set against a wall, tables pushed out of the way. There are about ten little girls sitting around the beds, playing with brightly coloured toys that make Ashley’s eyes glitter with interest, and they all look up at the group of people standing in the doorway.

None of their eyes glow.

“Rachel!” one of them calls excitedly, to the girl Brittany still hasn’t spoken to, and then she’s throwing herself into her arms as the girl—Rachel—gathers her up and smiles down at her. Brittany can’t remember the last time she saw someone smile. 

She sees Santana watching with an unreadable expression on her face as the little girl shows Rachel something in a colouring book, and Rachel tells her how good it is before she sets her down again.

“I’m—” Rachel glances at Mercedes, “—We’re looking after them,” she starts to say, but then Sam is pushing past them all desperately, cutting off the rest of her explanation.

“Stacy?” he says, “Stacy?” stepping closer so he can peer into the girls’ faces, but no one answers his call. She thinks she can almost see the moment when his heart breaks, like he deflates in on himself, the exhaustion of the last few days catching up with him. “She’s not here,” he says, slumping down onto his knees. “She’s not here.”

Rachel goes over to him and places a gentle hand on his shoulder, a nervous expression on her face like she doesn’t know how he’s going to react. He looks up at her, looking as broken as Brittany’s ever seen him, and Rachel offers him a shy, hesitant smile, just for a second. He swallows and some of the tears dry in his eyes. Mercedes looks away from them, like she’s waiting for Santana to explain. 

“We’re trying to find Sam’s little sister,” Santana says with a sigh, rubbing her hand over her face. “She was taken when the riots broke out on New Year’s Eve.” 

Sometimes it’s hard to remember it was just over a week ago. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wonders if any year was ever so spectacularly worse than the one that came before it.

“Stacy’s not here,” Sam moans, his face in his hands again, and Brittany just clutches Ashley to her again, because she’d started to inch towards some of the toys the other girls are playing with, and that’s too far away.


	4. i'll take care of you

Mercedes finds them food, and shows them the bathroom and shower, which is something Brittany’s almost forgotten the feel of. Santana actually makes a noise when she sees it, and Brittany blushes, although she’s not sure why.

Santana sits down on a bed once they’ve eaten, and after a second Brittany sits down on it too, both of them looking at each other across the space between them and wondering what to do.

Santana’s hand starts to inch towards hers, and then Ashley runs over to show her the teddy bear one of the other girls has given her and Santana flops down onto her back with a noisy exhale as Brittany turns away.

+

Later, Santana tells her she’s going to get clean and asks if she wants to come too, because there’s safety in numbers even when they’re locked inside a building and haven’t heard anyone outside for the last few hours.

Sam says he’ll watch Ashley, and Rachel and Mercedes are there too, so Brittany just follows after Santana, wondering why her stomach is twisting in this way she doesn’t understand. There’s only one shower, and Brittany starts to say that she’ll wait outside but Santana shuffles on her feet and looks at her for a moment before she says, “There’s safety in numbers,” again, like Brittany’s forgotten in the time it takes to walk down the hall.

Brittany knows what Santana means is _I don’t want to be alone_ , and she says, “I’ll keep my eyes closed,” as she follows Santana in.

Santana just looks at her before she half turns and starts to pull her dirty dress off, and it makes Brittany sad just how good she would have looked in it when she put it on to go out with her parents, before any of this happened. She looks at the burn marks on it, and the ripped hem, and the missing arm, and wants to laugh at the way Santana folds it up before she puts it down, like that’s going to help.

“We should wash our clothes out too,” Brittany says, when the silence has started to stretch, her eyes fixed on the dress just so she doesn’t have to look at Santana, naked now because her underwear followed the dress to the floor.

She hears the water come on, splashing against the tile. 

“They’ll take too long to dry,” Santana says, and Brittany knows what she means is _we might have to leave soon_.

“Yeah,” Brittany says.

She doesn’t look at Santana until the water turns off and Santana’s got the towel Rachel had given them wrapped around herself as she reaches for her dress. Her hair is plastered to her head and her arms and legs look too skinny where they’re visible around the towel, so she says, “Come here,” softly and waits for Santana to crouch down next to her.

She takes the second towel, the one that’s supposed to be for her, and rubs it against Santana’s hair, gathering it up and squeezing the water out of, watching it fall in waves around Santana’s face. Santana’s eyes stay on her face the whole time, watching her carefully, and when she’s done she just says, “Thank you,” but Brittany doesn’t think she’s done anything worth being thanked for and she just stands up and turns her back so Santana can get dressed again.

+

When they get back, Sam’s sitting with the bag of plasmids and gene tonics open at his feet while Mercedes glares at him and tries to pull some of the children away. His gun and several rounds of bullets sit next to him, almost like he’s taking stock of their resources.

“What are you doing?” Santana says, as she comes to stand in front of him. Brittany looks for Ashley and spots her near Rachel, who’s looking over at Sam and Santana, concern written all over her face.

“I’m going to Fontaine Futuristics. Or Ryan’s labs. Whatever it is now. Stacy has to be there,” Sam says, looking up from the bag. “I’m loading up with everything I can before we go. You should too. We might have to fight our way in.”

“Sam,” Santana says, shaking her head. “You have to be careful with that stuff.”

Brittany tries to ignore Sam’s pale face and the way he rubs at the vein in his wrist every now and then, his fingers twitching as sparks crackle around them.

“I’m fine,” he says, holding up an empty gene tonic bottle. “I only took one. Sports Boost. I’m stronger and faster now.” Her eyes fall back down into the bag and settle on the silvery plasmid resting on top. “We still have Winter Blast in there,” he says after a moment, looking back up at Santana. “I was thinking about—”

“No,” Santana says, and then she reaches down into the bag to take it before he can. She holds it in her hand, cradling it carefully. “This one isn’t for you.”

Brittany doesn’t know what Santana means, and she watches something pass between them. 

“I just want us to have the best chance,” Sam says, maybe a little harsher than he needs to, and Santana just glares at him before she turns and walks away.

“We’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Sam calls after her, and then looks over at Brittany as if she’s going to protest. She just nods and goes to find her sister, watching her play with the other girls like she’s forgotten they’re in the middle of a war.

She wishes she could forget too.

+

One of the little girls asks Rachel to sing to her, and then all the girls are asking her as well. Rachel glances at Santana, Brittany and Sam before she herds the girls towards one of the beds, all of them scrambling up to take a seat and looking at her expectantly. 

Rachel opens her mouth and starts to sing, quietly at first, with another glance in their direction. 

“ _Somewhere beyond the sea, somewhere waiting for me..._ ” 

Her voice is strong and pure even though she sings slowly, each note hanging in the air and blending into the next. She hears Santana’s breath hitch in her throat next to her, and then Santana scoots forward a little, until their thighs are pressed together and Brittany can feel her warm and solid against her side.

“ _Somewhere beyond the sea, she’s there watching for me..._ ”

Ashley comes over to sit on the floor between Brittany’s legs, leaning back against the bunk bed Brittany and Santana are sitting on. After a moment, Brittany reaches down to scoop her up and pull her into her lap, and Santana leans forward to brush some of Ashley’s hair out of her face, tugging the ribbon out of her hair so she can fix her pony tail while Ashley tries to squirm away.

“ _It’s far beyond a star, it’s near beyond the moon..._ ”

Santana leans into her side a little more heavily, her right arm creeping around to press into the mattress behind Brittany’s back, holding her up. She turns to look at her over the top of Ashley’s head and Santana’s staring back, a watery smile on her face. Brittany swallows, not wanting to look away.

She’s dimly aware that Rachel’s still singing, her voice still soft and halting, a little tremble in it as she continues. Brittany’s not sure how something can be so, so beautiful in such an awful place, but.

“ _I know beyond a doubt, my heart will lead me there soon_.”

+

She and Santana offer to take the first watch, because Mercedes explains how she and Rachel take it in turns to stand guard in the foyer by the front door, just in case someone else gets past the security system. Brittany keeps yawning behind her hand, and after a moment Santana looks at her and tells her that she should try to sleep and that she’ll watch over her.

“I’ll be okay,” Brittany says, even as she hides another yawn, and Santana just looks at her, eyes soft in the gloom. 

“You should sleep now. While I’m here. In case you have the nightmares,” Santana says, all in a rush without meeting her eyes, like she doesn’t really want to say it, and Brittany just swallows trying to figure out what to say. 

“I’ll watch over you,” Santana says again, going over to stand by the door, and Brittany just draws her knees up to her chest and leans back against the wall more heavily, wishing she knew what to say.

+

She wakes later because she can hear voices, and she keeps her eyes closed while she tries to make sense of the noise.

“Is she okay?” a voice—Rachel—asks, and Brittany wonders if she’s come to take over the watch.

“She’s exhausted,” Santana says, like that’s all, and she really wants to laugh, but.   
The silence stretches for a minute before Rachel speaks again. She keeps her eyes closed, because if she does there’s still a chance she hasn’t really woken up yet and this could all be a dream.

“You know she and her sister could stay here while you and Sam went to find Stacy,” she speaks slowly, like she’s not sure what Santana will say.

Santana answers for the both of them when she says, “We stay together,” fiercely, like she can’t believe Rachel even suggested it. “She’s my— I— They’re my family,” Santana stutters, and Brittany feels a flush of warmth go through her at the words even as she wonders what Santana was going to say before she settled on that. “I’m not leaving her.”

“I didn’t mean—” Rachel says quickly, but Santana cuts her off, and she sounds angry now.

“And no offence,” she says though what she really means is the exact opposite, “But we only met you six hours ago and we’ve known each other since we were kids. In the list of people I trust she’s at the fucking top and you’re not even on the paper.” She jabs her finger in Rachel’s face. “Why are you protecting these girls? They’re nothing to you. What if you’re in on it and you just want to get Ashley away from us so you can send her to one of those labs where they can turn her into a monster too.”

Rachel’s silent, and Brittany opens her eyes the tiniest bit, just to see what’s going on. Rachel’s standing with her arms folded across her chest, a sad look on her face. The flames burn around Santana’s hand down by her side. 

“I would never never send a girl to those—those people—” she says it like it’s a dirty word, “—who work for Ryan and Fontaine. Never.” She takes a breath, exhales noisily, then goes on. “I’m protecting them because I was one of them. When this place first opened and Fontaine was gaining everyone’s trust this was a proper orphanage, and the first little girls who got sent here got adopted and got to go and live with people who wanted them and loved them. Some of them were probably hired by Fontaine to project the right image but my da— my parents were different. They _wanted_ me and they _loved_ me. And when I asked if we could come back here so I could see my friend Tina, because I missed her and she’d been the only friend I had for a long, long time, they brought me because they wanted me to be happy,” Rachel’s voice is hoarse now, rising on each word and getting a little more broken the longer she talks. 

“And when I got here— When I got here Tina and the other girls were gone, but no one could tell us who’d adopted them or where they were or why they weren’t here. You know what this place is. You know what happened to my friend. So don’t you dare lecture me about who you can and can’t trust.” Rachel wipes her hand against her eyes roughly while Santana stares at her, shifting uncomfortably.

Santana’s silent, but there’s a growing look of horror on her face and when she tries to take a step closer to her, Rachel takes a step back, shaking her head as a single tear rolls down her cheek.

“I will protect them, until this stops or gets worse, or I can’t anymore,” Rachel says, and then she brings her hand up and Brittany sees that it looks like it’s frozen, all the skin dry and shining under the lights. She squeezes her hand into a fist, and Brittany sees icicles form along her fingers. “You’re not the only one fighting to protect the people you love,” Rachel says, and Brittany hears Santana’s sharp intake of breath and wonders what it means.

“I—” Santana says, and the words die on her lips when Rachel just shakes her head. 

“And I know why this plasmid—” she waves her hand, “—is still in the bag.” Rachel takes a step closer, and Brittany has to squint a little to see what she’s doing. She says something Brittany can’t hear, and then her hand darts forward and grabs Santana’s, the hand with the fire, quickly, her fingers tightening against Santana’s skin. Santana stares down at their hands, fire and ice together, and then up into Rachel’s face, her mouth hanging open in disbelief. 

“Don’t let Sam use it,” Rachel says, voice low, and then she drops Santana’s hand and steps back, wrapping her arms around herself again. “You two should go up to the dorm and get some real sleep if you’re leaving in the morning,” Rachel says, like nothing’s happened.

“Okay,” Santana whispers eventually, and then she’s turning towards her and Brittany squeezes her eyes shut again and waits for the feel of Santana’s hand on her arm before she pretends to wake up.

+

“Do you remember when I said we could take a Bathysphere to the surface?” Santana says, when they’re on the way back to the dorm. “Do you— Do you still want to?”

Brittany’s silent all down the hallway, and then she pauses with her hand on the door to the dormitory, glancing up at Santana just once before she whispers, “Yes.”

Santana’s smile is bright like the lights in the amusement arcade at Fort Frolic, and she has to look away, just so she can remember how to breathe.

+

She climbs into bed with Ashley, curling around her body protectively as she grumbles and moves over to find room. Santana takes the top bunk, planting her foot on the bottom and pulling herself up with some effort. Brittany watches her feet disappear.

+

She wakes up in the night because Ashley’s rolled and smacked her in the face with her elbow, and when her eyes adjust to the darkness she sees Santana’s left hand hanging over the edge of the bunk, reaching down so it’s almost at eye level, like she’s lying right up against the side.

The flames are so small they’re barely there, almost like they’re sleeping too.

Brittany stares at it for a long time, wishing she could just reach up and take it, but then Santana must roll over in her sleep because the hand disappears and she forces herself to close her eyes, taking a deep breath as she tries to go back to sleep.

+

Two hours later she’s still awake, even though the lights are still dim and she can hear everyone else breathing steadily into the gloom. She separates herself from Ashley carefully and gets out of bed, taking a moment to glance up at Santana, curled up and so small looking under the covers on the top bunk. She resists the urge to push some of her hair away from her face and crouches down instead, reaching for Santana’s bag that sits at the foot of their beds.

She pulls the strings open slowly and stares into it for a long time before she reaches in, knocking a couple of gene tonics out of the way. She finds the silvery plasmid syringe and traces her fingertips over it, startling at the icy cold feel of it under her skin. 

She thinks of Santana’s hand when she takes the cap off and positions the needle over the vein in the crook of her right arm, and then tries not to think at all when she pushes it against her skin and watches the surface break.

It hurts. It hurts more than she thought it would, and it feels like she can feel the liquid seeping into her bloodstream, flooding into her body. She drops the syringe on the floor with a clatter, slumping down to her knees after it, gripping her elbow with her other hand as she clenches her jaw and tries not to cry out. 

Her vision swims, and the last thing she sees before sliding into unconsciousness is Santana, illuminated by a single beam of light from the bulb in the ceiling, face soft in sleep. _She looks beautiful_ , she thinks and then she sees nothing at all.

+

She comes awake to Santana’s concerned face, Sam standing over her clutching the empty plasmid hypo in his hand as Ashley sits up in bed behind them, hands over her mouth.

“Are you okay?” she thinks Santana is saying, but she sees her left hand, bending her head up to look at the flames. 

“Britt?” Santana sounds far away, but she’s right there in front of her.

She moves her right hand, and sees the icicles and little spots of blood where they stick out of her skin as it passes in front of her face. She moves her right hand and brushes her fingers against Santana’s left, and then she passes out again.

+

She wakes up again in one of the bunk beds, and when she tries to sit up Santana says, “It knocked me out too, when I spliced. We were in an alley in the market in Arcadia, and Sam thought it had killed me because he was fine when he spliced his. It took me half an hour to come around.”

Her hand feels weird, like it’s hot and cold all at the same time. 

“How do you feel?” Santana says, and when Brittany turns to look, she sees Santana has her left hand wrapped around her right, holding on tightly. The flames keep dying like the cold is killing them, and her ice keeps melting before it freezes solid again. She can feel little pulses of hot and cold all the way up her arm. It feels kind of good, like it’s balanced somehow, so she just swallows and looks up to meet Santana’s eyes.

“Okay,” Brittany says, and it’s the first time in a long time that she’s meant it.

+

Mercedes brings her a bowl of some kind of stew, and it tastes pretty good even if she can’t work out what’s in it. She tries to hand one to Santana but she waves it away.

“How’s your girl doing?” Mercedes says, and Santana meets her eyes for just a second before she looks away, a flash of something Brittany can’t read passing over her face.

“We’ll be okay,” Santana says, even though that’s not what Mercedes asked, and Mercedes just nods before she goes to give Sam some food too.

“You should eat too,” Brittany says, when she’s about halfway down the bowl. “It tastes good.” She scoops some of it up on the spoon and holds it out to her, waiting for her to take it. “Come on, San.”

Santana looks like she wants to say something, but she just reaches out to take the spoon from her instead, her eyes sliding away from her as she starts to eat.

+

Ashley asks why they have to leave when she’s trying to help her into her jacket, the teddy bear one of the other girls had given her hanging from her hand. 

“We have to go and find Stacy,” Brittany says, and Ashley squirms, trying to pull herself away. 

“I don’t want to go out there again, Britt. I want to stay here,” Ashley says, and Brittany hates herself when she smoothes some of Ashley’s hair away from her face, her thumb brushing a tear away from Ashley’s cheek with her left hand.

“It’s okay, Ash. We’ll be okay,” she says, only she’s not sure who she’s trying to convince. “We’ll go and get Stacy from mom and dad’s lab and then we’re going to take a Bathysphere to the surface. A-all of us, with mom and dad too. We’re gonna go and live up there, Ash, and get away from all this. Trust me, okay? Please, just trust me and stay with me and everything is going to be okay.” 

Her voice cracks over some of the words and she has to pull Ashley to her, wrapping her arms around her as she rests her forehead against the crown of Ashley’s head.

She holds her for a long time, just so Ashley can’t see her cry.

“I wish—” Ashley says, once Brittany finally lets her go.

“I know,” Brittany says, wiping at the tears on her cheeks, and then she tells Ashley to go and say goodbye to her friends while she checks on her gun, sliding the shot into each chamber and snapping it shut. 

+

When she and Ashley get down to the foyer, Santana and Sam are standing side by side checking their weapons while Rachel and Mercedes watch them, all of them talking in low voices.

“Are you sure about this?” Mercedes asks, Rachel off to her side looking between the three of them. “We have food and supplies here, we could be safe until all this stops.”

“But what if it doesn’t stop,” Brittany says quietly, and they all turn to look at her. She clutches her sister’s hand a little tighter and steps closer.

“It has to,” Rachel whispers hoarsely and Brittany just looks over at Santana and watches her blink quickly, before she sighs out noisily and drags a hand over her face. 

“After we get my sister we can come back and figure out what to do,” Sam says, his hands tightening around the handle of his tommy gun. “There’s safety in numbers.” He looks over at Rachel when he says it, and she just blinks back. She looks like she’s trying to keep the hope off her face.

“And then we’ll all go to the surface together?” Ashley asks, in this tiny voice that cuts through everything. Brittany hears Santana’s breath hitch in the silence.

“What?” Mercedes whispers. No one moves.

“We’re going to the surface to get away,” Ashley says, even as Brittany tries to figure out a way to get her to be quiet.

“The surface isn’t safe,” Mercedes says quickly, looking between Brittany and Santana. “You’ve read the papers. Our best chance of surviving this is waiting for security to do its job and stop all the rioters, and then everything will go back to normal and—”

“Nothing’s going back to normal,” Santana hisses, spinning on her. “You really think all this is just going to go away? We need to get the fuck out of here.”

“I won’t leave the girls,” Rachel says, folding her arms across her chest, and then she looks over at Mercedes like she’s waiting for her to say something. 

Mercedes rolls her eyes but she says, “She’s right. She’s a damn fool, but she’s right. They need protecting.”

Santana hefts her bag a little higher on her shoulder and then takes three steps forward until she’s in front of her friend. “Then we’ll come back for you after,” she says, trying to smile and failing, and Brittany’s not entirely sure if even she believes the words she’s saying. 

Mercedes grabs Santana’s right hand in both of hers and nods, the lights dancing off the tears in her eyes. “You take care of yourself,” she says, finding Santana’s eyes, and after a moment Santana lurches forward to wrap her arm around Mercedes, holding her for a second before she steps back. 

“We’ll find you again once we have my sister,” Sam says, like he doesn’t even doubt it, and then he turns to peer through the window, checking the street before he opens the door and steps through it. Rachel’s eyes follow him out into the street.

The turret’s been repaired, and it makes a sound to show it recognises them as friendly, the top turning green as it rotates towards them.

Brittany’s so busy staring at it that she almost misses Santana taking a step towards Rachel, shifting awkwardly in front of her. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Rachel sort of half laughs and reaches to pull Santana into a hug. Santana’s arms hang uselessly at her sides before she brings them up to hug Rachel back, her fingers tightening against the jumper Rachel is wearing over her dress, pressing into the fabric. 

“We’ll come back and then there’ll be someone to protect you,” she thinks she hears Santana murmur to Rachel, and she has to look away from them, from the desperate hope in Rachel’s eyes. 

She feels like she’s missed a step going down the stairs, and she just takes Ashley’s hand in hers again and steps out into the street.


	5. i've loved

Hestia is still deserted but for the people staring out from the apartment blocks, from behind barricades and locked doors. Sam lets Ashley ride on his shoulders, and Brittany keeps her eyes on her more than the streets around them, trusting Sam and Santana to do that for her.

It only hits her then how much she’s come to rely on them over the past few day, and she swallows uncomfortably and hitches her gun a little higher, glancing around them just in case someone’s lurking in the shadows.

She can’t see anyone, and her eyes go back to Ashley, perched up on Sam’s shoulders. After a second, Santana glances back at her from where she’s leading the group, smiling for a second before Sam snaps at her to look where she’s going.

Brittany just clutches her gun, and tries to ignore the heat she can feel in her cheeks.

+

They run into a group of splicers before they get to the bulkhead door that connects to the tunnels, and Santana screams a warning as the group turns towards them, more than one gun pointing their way. Sam spins away to duck behind a building, grabbing Ashley one handed and setting her down behind him, and Brittany follows and pushes her a little further back, crouching in front of her while Sam brings his gun up and steps out into the street again, firing as he goes. 

There’s one man screaming as he burns, Santana’s outstretched hand turning away from him to point at a woman who’s lurching towards her with a revolver, only Brittany doesn’t think she’s moving fast enough.

The woman’s arm steadies, aiming the gun straight at Santana’s chest. 

“Santana!” Brittany screams, and then she runs forward, not caring who might be aiming at her, her right hand outstretched before her. She feels a rush of something inside her, and then there’s a block of ice where the woman was and Santana’s eyes are widening in surprise as Sam takes down the remaining man with his gun.

She steps over the pool of blood seeping out of the man Sam shot, getting closer to the woman she froze as Santana stands and stares at her, unsure what to do. She can see the woman inside the ice, face frozen in a cruel expression, the gun still pointing forward. 

“Whoa,” Sam whispers, coming over to stand by them, Ashley back on his shoulders. “Cool.”

Santana turns to look at him, a smirk creeping on to her face. “Cool?” she says, tilting her head to the side as her grin widens, and then Sam huffs out a hoarse laugh, bringing his hand up to push his hair away from where it hangs in his eyes.

“Yeah, cool,” he says, and then they’re both laughing, kind of hysterically, like this is actually funny.

“Stop it,” Brittany whispers, so quiet they don’t hear it. “Stop it!” she says, louder, and then she reaches up to pull Ashley down off Sam’s shoulders and set her down on her feet, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from them. She doesn’t pay attention to where she’s going, just needing to get away from the frozen women and the way her friends are laughing, like having to kill people just to survive is actually funny in some way she doesn’t understand.

Ashley has to take two steps to every one she takes, almost jogging to keep up with her.

“Britt!” Santana calls, but she just keeps walking, her right hand out in front of her in case they run into anyone else hiding amongst the buildings.

“Britt!” she hears again, and then Santana’s hand is on her elbow, warm in this way that she feels all up her arm as she pulls her to a standstill. “I’m sorry,” Santana says, and then her hand slides down so that she can tangle their fingers together for just a moment, squeezing tightly like she never wants to let go. Sam hangs back, watching them.

Brittany feels Santana’s fingers in the spaces between hers, fitting perfectly, almost like they were made to.

“It’s not funny,” Brittany sniffs, hating the way her voice trembles and the thickness in her throat. She tries to swallow and just ends up coughing instead, having to bite her lip to keep herself from sobbing. “None of this is funny,” she says again, begging Santana to understand.

“I’m sorry,” Santana says again, and then, “I know,” and then she lifts her other hand to wipe at Brittany’s cheeks, her thumb catching her tears and brushing them away. “I’m sorry,” Santana whispers, and then the first desperate sob is clawing its way up Brittany’s throat and out of her mouth and Santana looks like her heart is breaking and she doesn’t know how to fix it.

"Britt,” she murmurs, and then she’s pulling her closer, and Brittany’s arms come up to hold on gratefully as she drops her head to her shoulder and squeezes her eyes shut, wishing she never had to let go.

+

It takes them almost the entire day to get beyond Hestia and the Square and the Artemis Suites, and she never really realised how big the city was until now, when they have to walk everywhere without using the metro or the Atlantic Express. Sam manages to direct them around one of the metro stops without being seen, dodging behind buildings so the Atlas men standing guard don’t see them. 

Brittany stares at their guns as they go past, and the flames and electricity and ice covering their hands, and wonders again how this all fell apart so fast. When she says so out loud, Sam just gives her a look and then says, “When you’re told that if you come to Rapture you get to work only for yourself it kind of sucks to find out you have to work fourteen hour shifts in engineering to keep the city alive so the scientists and the doctors and Andrew Ryan can control everything,” and when Santana shifts uncomfortably he just shrugs and picks up his pace a little. 

“I’m just saying not everyone lived in Olympus Heights with you,” he says, and lifts his gun a little, scanning the broken window in a building to their left. “But I think Atlas wished they did.”

It’s only really then that Brittany takes in the ripped shirt that Sam is wearing, the grey slacks and suspenders, and remembers the way his hair was slicked back that first night in her apartment, and that she’s pretty sure he’d been wearing a tie. Without meaning to she remembers the little blazer Stevie had been wearing when he was killed, the hole the bullet had ripped in it right over his heart.

“Where were you when the riots started, Sam?” she asks quietly, because she never has before, and she realises how odd it was for them to be together when they found her.

Sam’s silent for a moment. “The Kashmir Restaurant,” he says eventually, and Brittany glances at Santana because she knows that’s where she was too. “My parents saved up for most of the year so we could afford to go. We got all dressed up too,” he gestured down at himself with a laugh. “Not that you could tell now, but we were all dressed up. So when Atlas came in they thought we were rich too and then when they started shooting, my parents...” his voice trails off and Santana lays a hand on his arm, her thumb rubbing against the inside of his elbow.

“I’m sorry,” Brittany says, even though it’s not enough. 

Sam just nods and shrugs away from Santana’s touch. The electricity crackles around his hand. “It’s not your fault,” he says, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes Brittany think that maybe it is.

+

There’s a little market square before the bulkhead door into Point Prometheus, and Sam blasts the security lock to one of the shops with his electricity so that they can get inside and shelter for the night. It’s a clothing store, and they push a few racks over in front of the door to block it before finding the store room at the back, hoping they’ll be safe enough there for the night. 

They eat some of the food Mercedes and Rachel gave them, and then Sam says he’ll take the first watch and disappears out into the store without looking back.

“You should sleep, Ash,” Brittany says, as she watches her sister reach up for the shelves and tug at the tissue paper covering the dresses, her little eyes wide.

Santana shifts next to her, reaching into her pocket, and when her hand reappears she’s clutching several screwed up dollar bills and smiling at Ashley. “You pick out a dress, and I’ll leave the money in the cash register when we leave so the owners will get it in the morning,” Santana says, and Brittany doesn’t know what’s funnier, that she’s lying to Ashley and trying to pretend that stores are still open even when they broke in half an hour ago and it’s so obviously deserted, or that she’s willing to pay for a dress in the middle of all this, like even in the middle of a war when they’ve both killed people they have to pay for the things they take.

(She wonders how they could possibly pay for all the lives they’ve taken, like there’s anyway that they ever could.)

Ashley’s eyes slide over to look at Brittany like she’s asking permission, and when Brittany nods Ashley squeals, clapping her hands together as Santana crosses the room to her and helps pull down some of the little girl dresses in her size.

Brittany thinks about how young her sister really is as she watches them, and wonders how much older she’s going to get.

+

She thinks she nods off, because she wakes up to Ashley pushing her, grinning at her in a brand new dress. It’s a faded sort of blue and stops just over her knee, revealing the new socks and shoes Santana must have convinced her to put on as well. Santana’s even managed to find a new ribbon for her hair, in a blue that matches the dress. 

“What do you think?” Ashley asks, spinning around with her arms outstretched, and Brittany tries to smile through the pain in her chest.

“You look pretty as a picture, Ash,” she says, and Ashley grins happily and settles down on the floor next to her, leaning into her side. She wraps an arm around Ashley’s shoulders and pulls her closer, just to convince herself that she’s really there. “Where’s Santana?” she asks after a moment, when she realises Ashley is on her own, and Ashley sighs theatrically, like Brittany’s asking her something complicated.

“She’s getting changed in one of the booths,” Ashley says like it’s obvious. “Because her dress is ripped and dirty and stuff.” She glances up at Brittany with a sly grin, “You should get changed too, you smell horrible.”

“Do not,” Brittany laughs, giving her a shove and Ashley just laughs and tries to push her back, scrambling into her lap to pull at her dress. 

“Smelly, smelly,” she sing songs, as Brittany curls her plasmid hand in towards her own chest protectively and tries to squirm away. 

“No, I’m not!” Brittany says, but Ashley just keeps repeating the word, until they’re both tangled up in a heap on the floor laughing.

“Smelly,” Ashley says again, as she sits on Brittany’s stomach, and Brittany just shakes her head and reaches to pull her down into a hug, until Ashley is shouting for her to get off and trying to squirm away.

+

Santana comes back in a rough men’s shirt and trousers, and Brittany’s pretty sure her mouth falls open at the sight.

“These will last longer,” Santana says quickly, tugging at the shirt around her chest, where it clings to her a little more than it should. “They’re easier to fight in too,” she adds after a moment, and Brittany just nods, her eyes lingering for a second before she drags them away.

“They suit you,” Brittany says when Santana catches her staring, and she’s pretty sure she sees Santana smile, just out of the corner of her eye.

+

She takes the last watch when Santana comes to wake her, sliding into the gap where she was so that Ashley won’t know she’s gone.

She stands in the darkness behind the barricade, staring out into the street with her gun braced against the railings, wedged against the door. She watches a little boy dart out from the building across the street and cross to a vending machine, reaching up to push a silver dollar into the slot and pull a lever on the front. There’s a whirring noise and then a pep bar drops into the bottom, and the boy rips it open greedily, taking a huge bite and grinning to himself at the taste of the chocolate.

“Welcome to the circus of values!” the vending machine sings, and then there’s the sound of running feet and a gunshot, and the boy slumps forward as Brittany clenches a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming. The man who shot him pulls the half eaten pep bar out of the boy’s hand and tosses it aside once he realises what it is, and Brittany’s hand trembles with the effort of not attacking the man, to make him pay for killing a little boy for half a chocolate bar he didn’t even want.

She can feel the tears coursing down her cheeks but she manages to stay silent, melting back into the shadows when the man paces past the window to the shop without bothering to glance in her direction. She stays there long after he’s gone, trembling in the darkness, her fingernails pressing into her palms to try and keep herself from screaming. 

She doesn’t look at the little boy’s body. (She doesn’t see anything else.)

+

They leave quickly in the morning, taking their turn in the tiny bathroom at the back of the store and eating hurriedly, without bothering to talk. They go through the bulkhead door into the glass tunnels, Sam urging them along towards Point Prometheus, where the labs are.

They’ve been so focussed on this as their end point that Brittany wonders what they’ll actually do when they get there, and she remembers telling Ashley that their parents were there and wonders what she’ll say when it becomes obvious that they aren’t. She feels like their time is running out, and she wants to scream at them all to stop and just go back to Rachel and Mercedes, to hide in the Orphanage and pretend this isn’t happening. 

She doesn’t understand why this is happening.

“You okay?” Sam says, when he glances back at her in a fork in the tunnel, standing in the opening to the right one, under the sign that says Point Prometheus. 

She doesn’t trust herself to speak so she just nods, and follows him inside.

+

There are two turrets and three men with guns in Ryan Industry uniforms outside the door to the labs compound. Sam leans around the corner to get a better look, the electricity crackling around his hand, while Santana twists her hands together nervously by his side.

“Think we can take them?” she whispers, and Brittany has to wonder when that became the first option.

Sam just looks at her and shakes his head and she nods like she was expecting that. “Then what are we gonna do?” she says, and Sam huffs out in frustration, rubbing his hand over the handle of his gun.

No one says anything, and then Ashley tugs on her hand and waits until she’s crouching down to say, “Why don’t we just ask them to take us to mom and dad?”

She just stares at her, caught in a lie, and waits for someone else to say something. No one does.

“Sure, honey,” she says around the lump in her throat, and Ashley looks so pleased with herself for coming up with the solution that Brittany has to look away. She finds Santana watching her, her expression carefully blank.

“Maybe—maybe it could work,” Sam says slowly, with an apology hiding behind the words, and Brittany just smoothes Ashley’s hair back and brushes some of the creases out of her dress.

“I want you to stay behind me, okay?” she says to her sister, because it’s literally the only thing she can think to, and Ashley’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion as she gazes back at her.

“Why?” she says, and Brittany’s hands tremble when she ties the ribbon in her hair again, making sure the bow is neat.

“So if mom and dad are looking out the window you’ll be a surprise,” she whispers haltingly, and then even Santana has to look away from them. 

“Stay with me, kiddo,” Santana says, and Ashley nods though she still looks doubtful. Santana takes a breath and forces herself to look back, straightening a little under Ashley’s gaze, “I’ll make sure no one sees you.”

Brittany’s hands are shaking so hard she has to hide them behind her back. Her eyes meet Santana’s over the top of Ashley’s head, and Santana just nods the tiniest bit, barely inclining her head. She swallows the sob that tries to escape.

“It’s like a game,” Sam puts in when Brittany can’t speak, trying his best to smile. It looks wrong, somehow. “Let’s go surprise your parents okay?”

“Okay,” Ashley says happily, going over to stand by Santana’s legs as Brittany tries to remember how to breathe. “They won’t see me coming!”

(Brittany has never hated herself more.)

+

They decide that Brittany should go first, and she hands her gun to Santana so that she can at least hold her hands up and they can see that she’s unarmed. She pulls the sleeve of her jacket down over her plasmid hand, and hopes it’ll be enough for them not to notice. 

Sam straps his gun to his back and Santana rolls her shirts sleeves down from her elbows. They’re too long for her, and after a second her left hand disappears. “Ready?” Sam says, face pale under the lights.

Santana exhales noisily and grips Ashley’s shoulder, and Brittany looks over at them, trying to fix them both in her memory just in case. 

“Ready,” Brittany whispers, and then she lifts her hands up by her sides like she’s surrendering and steps out into the corridor.

+

“Halt!” one of the men shouts when he spots her, and three guns swivel round to point in her direction. “Don’t fucking move.”

She stands so still, she doesn’t even breathe. She hears the others stop behind her, and hopes the men with guns can’t see her sister.

“Identify yourself!” the man shouts again, and Brittany answers almost at once.

“Please, my parents work here and we’re trying to find them. Pierce, my name is Pierce. They’re scientists here, plasmid design.” She holds herself still, wondering why they’d thought this would work. Sam and Santana and Ashley should have stayed back, and then after she’d been shot they could have gone back to the Orphanage and—

“Pierce? And who are those others? You ain’t related to that spic behind you,” the man says, and she almost takes a step forward, her right hand twitching as she feels icicles form on her fingers. 

“She’s my friend,” Brittany says, a bit harsher than she needs to, “And she’s the only reason I’m still alive so you don’t get to—”

“Britt,” Santana says behind her. There’s a warning in her voice. She feels Santana’s hand close around her wrist and she forces herself to stop talking, in case she says something else. She tries to ignore the way one of the men is looking at them, at the sneer on his face as he looks at Santana. She forgets sometimes that some of the people who came here bought their surface prejudices with them.

“We just want to find my parents,” she forces herself to say instead, and right then, when no one is saying anything, is when Ashley steps out from behind Santana’s legs and says, “Can you take me to my mommy now?”

The words hang in the air, and Brittany wishes she could take them back with everything she has.

The three men turn to look at Ashley, and the one on the left hisses something she doesn’t catch to the one in the middle before the one on the right says, “Shut up,” very deliberately.

She swallows, and the moment stretches. Her stomach is in knots, and she wants to grab Ashley and run. She wonders how far she’d get before they shot her.

“Pierce was it?” one of the men says, and Brittany nods dumbly, not knowing what else to do. She feels the way a fish must feel when it’s caught in a net, like everything’s closing in around her and she can’t get away. She forces herself to stand still, her arms trembling where she holds them up at her sides. 

The guard turns to the man next to him and tells him to radio inside and ask if they can let them in, and then he tries to paint a smile on his face, only it ends up being creepier than the sneer he was wearing a second ago. “Why don’t you all step up here so I can get a look at you?”

Santana’s hand tightens around her wrist before she lets go, and Brittany reaches for Ashley blindly, holding her hand so hard that Ashley tries to pull away and she has to force herself to relax her grip.

They step out into a line, Sam and Santana flanking Brittany on either side, and the man steps forward to look at them. His eyes slide over Sam’s ripped shirt and suspenders, Ashley’s pretty new dress, and Brittany’s more dirty one. They stop at Santana’s shirt and trousers, the ghost of the sneer back on his face.

“You three related?” he says, jerking his thumb at Sam, and Brittany shakes her head. 

“We all live together,” Santana puts in, “In Olympus Heights.” Brittany knows she’s mentioned it on purpose, to show they’re not with Atlas, and she watches Sam keep his face carefully blank.

“Was I talking to you?” the man snaps, rounding on her. Santana’s jaw tightens but she doesn’t say anything, just looks back at him, waiting for him to say something else. After a moment he turns back to the others. “How did you get here? Four kids in the middle of all those dissenters? It couldn’t have been easy.”

“We found guns, sir, and we used them,” Sam says, straightening a little under the man’s gaze. “My parents are dead. Santana’s parents are dead. Atlas killed them. So we came looking for the only adults we had left.”

Brittany can feel Ashley trembling in front of her, where she leans back against her legs. She puts her left hand on her shoulder and squeezes, hoping she’ll stay silent.

“Smart kids,” the man says, and Brittany can’t help but think it sounds like he means the opposite. He tilts his head as the man with the radio steps closer and says something into his ear, and then he forces that awful smile back onto his face again. “If you follow me inside, I’ll take you to your parents now.”

Ashley says, “Mommy!” and Brittany has to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out . She looks at Santana and then at Sam and sees the exact same feeling reflected back on their faces. Why did they think this would work?

“Give Joe your weapons, you won’t need them in the labs,” the man says with forced casualness, and the man with the radio looks at them expectantly, holding out his hands.

No one moves, and a flash of irritation appears on the man’s face. “What are you waiting for?” he says, and the tommy gun hanging off his shoulder twitches a little, like he wants to point it at them. “Give Joe your guns.”

Sam hands his over first, and then Santana. Brittany watches her shotgun disappear and squeezes her hand into a fist inside the sleeve of her jacket, feeling the icicles break the surface of her skin. 

Joe turns towards the door, past the line of turrets, and types in a code on the door to unlock it. The other man steps back to let them pass, so he can follow them inside. Sam steps closer to her than he has to as they start to move, his arm brushing her shoulder. “As soon as we get inside, use your plasmids,” he breathes and Brittany nods her head the tiniest bit, just so he knows she heard. He steps away, closer to Santana, and she wonders if he’s telling her the same thing. 

The door opens into a foyer, cold and clinical the way Brittany remembers from when she was here before when she was little. Joe comes to a stop as the door slams shut behind them, and she sucks in a breath, feeling the ice forming around her fingers as she waits for Sam to make his move.


	6. and i've lost

The men lead them down two corridors, and they see people in lab coats peering out at them from offices, confusion on their faces. She tries to ignore the way they stare at Ashley, and just keeps walking, her hand tense at her side. 

It’s less sparsely populated than when she was here with her dad, but it’s surprisingly normal, like maybe the scientists even know what’s going on outside even though she doesn’t think that’s possible. Even up here they must have heard the fighting.

The men obviously know where they’re going, leading them up a staircase and around a walkway, until they come to a stop in some sort of open area with doors leading off it in all directions.

Brittany sees the sign that says LITTLE WONDERS EDUCATIONAL FACILITY and tightens her grip on Ashley’s shoulder.

“How about we go find you some friends to play with, sweetheart?” Joe asks Ashley, bending down so he’s at her level. Ashley takes a step back. “Your mommy is still at work, so you don’t want to be bored while you wait.”

“Britt?” Ashley says, twisting to look up at her. She feels like the floor’s gone unsteady under her feet. She hears Santana’s breath hitch in her throat next to her.

Sam takes a step forward and the other man raises his gun immediately, pointing it at Sam from point blank range. “Easy now,” he says, with a grin.

“Britt, what’s going on?” Ashley says, and she sounds scared now. She backs up into Brittany’s legs, away from Joe still crouching in front of her.

“Come on, let’s go find your friends,” Joe says, and then he reaches for Ashley and loops an arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground.

“Britt!” Ashley shouts. She kicks her feet but Joe ignores her, adjusting his grip and lifting her a little higher. “No, no, I want to stay with you!” There are tears streaming down her face as she screams, her arms outstretched and reaching for her as Joe disappears towards the sliding doors.

“Ash,” she murmurs. She feels like she can’t move, like her plasmid has infected her whole body. 

She watches her sister disappear through the door.

“Easy now,” the man with the gun trained on Sam says again. Brittany turns to look at him, her hand coming up in front of her. 

She points it at him as a look of understanding crosses his face and he murmurs “Splicers,” under his breath, and something in the back of her mind bristles at the word, like they’re just the same as the gangs of Atlas men outside, genetically engineering themselves and forgetting who they are. They’re not the same as them at all. 

The man is so busy staring at her that he doesn’t see Sam wave his hand, and the gun is pulled from his grasp, rotating in the air until it’s pointing at him. Sam takes a step forward as the man takes a step back.

“The little girls you take are all through there,” Sam asks, and the man just laughs at him, shaking his head.

“I’m not telling you a damn thing,” he sneers. Sam makes the gun float closer, jabbing into the man’s chest. 

“No, you should tell Sam,” Santana says, snapping the fingers of her left hand in front of the man’s face, until the flames are twisting around them. “Because if you have to tell me it’s gonna hurt a lot more.” The flames from her hand reflect in the depths of her eyes, and Brittany has to look away.

“You don’t have the balls,” the man laughs, and Santana stares at him for half a second before she shoots flames at his feet, quickly without any warning.

The man steps backwards with a shout of “You fucking bulldagger!” and Brittany doesn’t know what that means, but Santana does, because her face twists as she lifts her hand again, higher than before. 

The flames hit his leg, and Brittany can smell the flesh burning as the man screams.

“Say that again,” Santana hisses, leaning over him as he falls to the floor, trying to beat the flames away from his leg.

The man splutters out a laugh, his face paler than a moment before. “The Big Daddies are gonna have fun playing with a dirty dyke spic like you,” he spits, and then Santana lifts her hand again and the man says nothing at all.

Santana breathes hard as the flames consume him, the scream dying in his throat as Sam reaches for the gun floating in front of him and fires a quick round of bullets into him. Santana glares at him and Sam stares right back, something passing between them that Brittany can’t make sense of because she’s already halfway to the door her sister disappeared through before Santana calls her name, begging her to wait up. 

She hears their footsteps hurry after her as she breaks into a run, her hand up in front of her in case she has to fight.

+

She freezes the first scientist she sees, and manages to get the second one just before he gets to the door, but the third escapes, shouting about a break in as alarms start to flash around them. 

“Fuck,” Santana says when she slides to a halt next to her, and even Sam looks pale under the lights, his eyes wide as he stares around them.

There’s a sign that says HOLDING CELLS that points down the stairs, but the sirens are louder that way, and she looks back at the others before she points to it. She can hear running feet, and then a low rumbling groan and the heavy thud of diver’s boots drifting up the stairs. 

Santana swallows a moan next to her. They know what that sound means.

Santana swings her bag down off her shoulder and searches through it, pulling out three glistening blue EVE hypos. She has to hold it out to Brittany for long moments before she takes it from her, wishing she didn’t have to. She tucks it into her jacket pocket, and tries to forget it’s there.

Sam doesn’t hesitate before he shoots his into his arm, closing his eyes as the needle slides in. The electricity crackles bright around his hand, and he smiles at them grimly as they listen to the sirens wail downstairs. “Stay together, find the girls, leave again,” Sam says, like it’s that easy, and Santana huffs out a laugh, rubbing a hand over her face as they stare at each other.

There’s silence, and then Sam says, “If this is— If we’re going to— Thank you for coming here with me,” and Santana just nods, having to look away. 

“Don’t be an idiot, Sam,” she says lightly, not managing to meet his eyes, and he just shakes his head.

“If this is it, I wanted to tell you that before we...“ he says, and then trails off, like he can’t even say it out loud. 

Something passes over Santana’s face. She looks like she’s fighting herself for a moment, her hands twisting nervously.

“Britt,” she says, suddenly, turning towards her, “I need to tell you—”

“Tell me after,” Brittany says desperately, because she can’t do this now, not with the way Santana’s looking at her and Sam’s pointedly looking away, and then she takes the first step down the stairs.

+

The stairs open out onto a narrow hallway, with what look like heavy metal doors evenly spaced down the walls. Cells, really, despite the sign on the wall that says DORMITORY in cartoon letters. She assumes it’s there in case the little girls can read and she feels a chill go through her.

A security camera on the wall spins round to look at them as the alarms continue to go off, and they hurry down the line of doors, peering through the tiny windows in the middle of each one, holding their breath at what they might find. 

They look like ordinary kids rooms, decorated in pink and yellow and green, toys and little beds lined up against the wall.

There’s a girl peering out of one of them with glowing yellow eyes, her face eerily calm as she looks at them. She hears Santana swear next to her as Sam turns away, running his hands through his hair like he wants to tear it out. 

“We can’t help her,” he says, and she knows it’s not a rebuke, just a statement of fact, because the girl in there is beyond their help now. The girl in there isn’t really a little girl anymore.

“Come on,” Sam says softly, and they start moving again, Santana’s hand creeping onto her arm like she needs it to steady herself. 

All she can think about is Ashley. Ashley with glowing yellow eyes like the girl back there. She shudders and sees Santana glance at her out of the corner of her.

They find another girl two doors down and force themselves to keep walking, and then a series of doors standing open further down the row. The corridor opens out into a wider space then, the roof disappearing to reveal the upstairs floor, with platforms for observation, and a group of men staring down at them. 

“Breach!” one of them shouts, and then another one presses a button and they hear a door slide open to their left. “Security!” Heavy boots thud against the floor.

The Big Daddy is dressed in the same heavy diving suit as the ones they’ve seen before, but instead of the drill it’s carrying some kind of gun, larger and more powerful looking than any they’ve ever seen. 

“Fuck,” Santana whimpers as he comes towards them, the diver’s helmet turning slowly. 

“Blast him with everything you have,” Sam says hoarsely, raising his gun with one hand and holding his other hand out in front of him. “We have to take him down fast.”

One of the scientists throws something from his hand, and Brittany watches as it arcs through the air before it hits the Big Daddy and vanishes, almost like she’s imagined it. It stops, and the diver’s helmet turns to look up.

“Kill them,” the scientist says, and the Big Daddy roars, the gun coming up to point at them.

“Move!” Sam screams, and then they’re all scrambling backwards, trying to get away.

The ground shakes when the Big Daddy starts to run, and Brittany shoots ice from her fingers, hoping it’ll stop him long enough for them to put more space between them. She misses, and Sam fires a full round from his gun back at their attacker. The Big Daddy roars again when some of the bullets hit but keeps coming, even when Santana engulfs him in flames, almost like he can’t feel it.

Brittany thinks she can hear the scientists laughing at them from up above. 

There’s no time to think, and when the Big Daddy brings his gun up and fires, Santana grabs Brittany and pushes her out of the way just as Brittany realises that it’s a grenade launcher and that this is it, they’re all going to die.

Santana’s arms tighten around her as they fall in a heap on the floor, and Brittany turns her head into Santana’s chest, waiting for a blow that doesn’t come. 

She remembers to breathe again and watches as Sam falls back and twists to throw his hand up, blurring a little as it moves. The grenade stops, hovering in the air. He pauses for half a second, staring at it in disbelief, before he throws it back and they watch it explode around the Big Daddy. There’s a roar, but this time it sounds like it’s one of pain, and then Sam blasts it with a bolt of electricity and unloads another three rounds into it as it slumps to the ground. 

It hasn’t been moving for a long time when Sam finally stops shooting. 

“Fuck me,” Santana murmurs, impressed, next to her. Brittany scrambles away self-consciously, coming to her feet and offering Santana her hand to help her up. Santana holds on a little too long once she’s back on her feet, before Brittany glances at her and she lets go, reaching up to run her hand through her hair and pull it away from her face.

“Did I really just do that?” Sam laughs, more out of shock than anything. Brittany glances up at the men leaning over the railings watching them, at the way they’re waving their arms around and talking to each other quickly, their eyes never leaving the group.

“Go get that grenade launcher and kill those assholes so we can move on,” Santana says, but her usual bravado is missing from her voice.

“ _...send her in to deal with them... they won’t get past her..._ ”

“We have to move,” Brittany says, glancing up at the scientists again and wondering who they’re talking about, and Sam nods, pointing at the door the Big Daddy came through. The hallway beyond looks dark, but it’s the only lead they have so she just takes a step towards it, bracing herself for whatever comes next.

+

Sam manages to pry the grenade launcher out of the Big Daddy’s hands, and he straps it to his back even though it only has three more grenades in it, just in case they can use it. The men on the observation deck watch them go through the door, but don’t do anything, and Brittany knows it can’t be as easy as that.

It isn’t.

There’s a little girl hunched over crying halfway down the corridor, and Sam stops dead when he sees her, all the colour draining out of his face. She’s tiny and blonde haired, and Brittany has a feeling she knows who she is even before Sam speaks.

“Stacy?” Sam whispers, and the little girl stills, the sobs cutting off almost immediately.

Her little head lifts, and Brittany gasps at the way her eyes glow yellow in the gloom. She sniffs like she’s trying to catch some particular scent, the same way an animal would, and then her head turns towards them slowly. “Daddy?” she says in a shrill voice. She sniffs again, like she’s confused.

Silent tears stream down Sam’s face. 

“Sam,” Santana breathes out, clamping a hand over her mouth in horror. Brittany can’t speak at all, because even though it’s not Ashley, all she can see if her own sister, her eyes glowing the same way. 

“I lost my Daddy,” the little girl that was Sam’s sister says. “Can you take me to him?”

Sam takes a step forward and then another, dropping to his knees in front of the girl. She peers at him for a moment, her head tilted to the side, before she rocks forward onto her knees and reaches up to put her hands on his shoulders and lean closer to examine him. 

“You’re not my Daddy,” she says, but she stays there just the same. Brittany’s never seen a Little Sister trust anyone other than a Big Daddy before. 

“Sam what are you doing,” Santana says, as he leans forward and wraps an arm around her waist. He lifts her so she can scramble onto his shoulder.

“Let’s go and find him then, honey,” Sam says, and when he looks over at Santana his eyes are just empty, absolutely empty. “And then I’m going to kill everyone responsible for doing this.”

+

They go deeper into the building and find another block of cells, the doors hanging open with no sign of their occupants. They search through them quickly while the girl on Sam’s shoulders demands that they hurry up, but there’s no sign of Ashley and Sam just points at the sign on the door to the left that says AUTOPSY.

She feels sick, and Santana has to put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. 

“No,” Stacy says, her feet kicking against Sam’s shoulders. “No, no, no. Daddy isn’t in there.”

Brittany just pushes through the doors, not waiting to see if the others are following. The hallway widens into a reception area, and a woman behind a desk in a lab coat starts when they appear.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” she reaches towards the desk, probably to hit some sort of alarm, and Brittany just throws her hand out, freezing her where she stands.

She doesn’t even feel guilty about it.

There’s a ward off to their left, and what looks like a playroom for the little girls they bring here, an office off to the side. She can see people moving behind the glass. They’re halfway across the room when the security camera locks on them and starts to beep, alerting everyone to their presence. Sam shoots a bolt of electricity at it, but the alarm continues even as it smokes above their heads.

The door to the office opens and three people in lab coats emerge with a man in the same uniform as the guards from before, holding a tommy gun loosely in his hands. Sam just waves his hand and the gun flies out of the man’s grip, to smash against the wall.

“Oops,” he says carelessly. The Scientists start to back up, but the guard stays where he is, his hands in the same place, like they haven’t caught up to the fact that the gun is gone now. It’s almost funny, if anything could ever be funny again.

“Hi,” Santana says, stepping forward. “Where the fuck are the girls,” and then someone bursts out of the office and makes a run for a door on the back wall, dragging a little girl with them.

“Ashley!” Brittany screams and she doesn’t have the words to explain the relief she feels when her sister looks back at her and her eyes are still blue and human. 

Ashley screams, and Brittany starts to run after her as the scientists try to barricade themselves back in their office now they see they’re outnumbered. The guard reaches for the radio on his belt and starts shouting about a security breach, requesting armoured escort back up and demanding that someone do something. Sam shoots him before he finishes the sentence.

She doesn’t feel guilty about that either.

Ashley and the person who carries her disappear through a door on the far wall and when Brittany gets to it’s locked, and there’s no switch on this side for Sam to blast with his electricity. She bangs on the door as hard as she can, and she knows her hand is going to bruise. If she thought they were going to be alive long enough for the bruises to show she’d probably care.

Her throat aches, and it’s only then that she realises she’s screaming Ashley’s name. 

It takes all of Santana’s strength to pry her away, her arm looped around her stomach pulling her back, and Sam breathes hard as he stares at the door trying to figure out a way through. She tries to fight Santana off but Santana looks at her with eyes that are too soft in this hard place and she finds she can’t. Brittany’s mouth hangs open as she tries to think of something to say.

“She’s gonna be my new best friend,” Stacy singsongs from up on Sam’s shoulders, and Brittany hisses, more animal than human, bringing her hand up to point at her. Sam lifts his hand too, to point at Brittany, glaring at her as the electricity crackles.

“Uh,” Santana says, but neither of them move.

She wants to kill the girl, and Sam for bringing her here. She wants to kill everyone in the labs, everyone who took her sister from her.

A scream comes through the door, and Brittany jolts back to herself. 

_Ashley_. 

She screams her name again, her fists slamming against the glass in the door. “Find something to break it,” she shouts at Sam, and he takes a step away, disappearing from her vision.

“Freeze it,” Santana whispers, “It’ll break easier,” and she does, forcing the ice out of her hand until her vision swims and she staggers. Santana catches her and presses an EVE hypo into her hands. She doesn’t even think twice before jabbing it into her arm and pressing the plunger. 

It doesn’t hurt at all, not compared to— 

Sam comes back with a wrench and a lead pipe and he hands the pipe to Brittany without saying anything. She’s clenching her hand around the metal and getting ready to swing when she hears the crackle of a radio and a voice fills the chamber, and she almost drops the pipe in surprise because it’s one she’s heard on radio broadcasts all her life.

“ _I wouldn’t do that if I were you_ ,” the voice says and Santana’s eyes widen even further. “ _Now would you kindly step away from the surgical suite and come over here where I can see you?_ ” 

The pipe drops from Brittany’s hand, and she looks around for the source of the noise as Sam moves towards the centre of the room, his gun clutched tightly in his hands.

A security camera slowly turns towards them, and Brittany suddenly understands.

“Is that—” she breathes out.

“Andrew Ryan,” Sam hisses, bringing his gun up and looking around them like the man is actually in the room with them.

“ _Unfortunately, you’re interfering with the running of this city and the great work the girls here go on to do, so I can only assume you’re parasites, like those Atlas idiots running around blowing everything up_ ,” he exhales noisily, his breath whistling into the radio. “ _Rapture is no place for parasites_.”

“I just want my sister, just give me my sister and we’ll go,” Brittany shouts, even though she doesn’t know if Ryan can hear them. He goes on as if he hasn’t.

“ _Fortunately, you have been selected to test one of Ryan Industries brand new innovations in Rapture Security_.”

An ear splitting scream rings out, high, shrill, and not human. It’s not Ashley. Up on Sam’s shoulders Stacy claps her hands together excitedly.

“ _Try not to destroy the security cameras, would you kindly?_ ,” Ryan sneers as the radio crackles. “ _I want to watch this_.”

The scream sounds again, and Santana claps her hands over her ears as Sam winces. 

“The fuck is that,” Santana says, and then the door they came through earlier explodes into the room as whatever it is screams again, and they’re forced to scatter to avoid it. Brittany coughs and hugs the wall, trying to see which way Santana went.

She can see Sam to her left, sprawled on the floor and desperately trying to regain his feet. Stacy scampers away from him across the floor, shouting, “Big sister!” happily.

Big _Sister_?

“Sam—” she starts to say and then freezes when Santana screams from across the room. She can see a flash of fire, illuminating a skinny figure, dressed in an armoured diving suit like the Big Daddies. The scream rings out again and the figure jumps, flipping in the air as she moves away, so fast Brittany almost can’t track her. 

She grabs Sam and runs across the room, towards where she heard Santana scream, imagine her bloody and broken until they find her cowering under a desk. Brittany runs her hands over her quickly, checking she’s okay. She’s staring straight ahead, her hand raised in front of her. 

“She’s fast,” Santana says breathlessly, “So fucking fast.”

There’s a flash of movement and Santana turns, throwing a fireball at where she thinks the thing is. After a second a fireball comes back, whether it’s the same one or one from the monster they’re fighting Brittany doesn’t know, and they have to dive away. Brittany feels the heat of it as it passes and hits the wall behind her.

There’s a thud as the thing lands in front of them and stalks closer, and Brittany can see for the first time that it looks like a girl, a skinny teenage girl, no older than them. There’s a round helmet just like the Big Daddies’ covering her head and Brittany wonders who or what is inside.

She doesn’t think she wants to know. 

+

The fight’s a blur, and she doesn’t know how long it lasts, all three of them throwing their plasmid powers at her and rarely hitting, Sam wasting ammo they don’t possess trying to hit her as she jumps and rolls and avoids it all. He loses the grenades he took from the Big Daddy in the first ten minutes. None of them hit.

The Big Sister screams again and somewhere in the back of her mind Brittany thinks it sounds like she’s laughing now. 

Her lungs burn from the smoke off the flames, and it feels like she can’t get enough oxygen, so all her muscles ache and protest every time she has to dodge an attack. They’re getting slower, and she knows it’s only a matter of time.

Sam cries out from somewhere across the room and she wonders if he’s been hit, and then there’s a flash of electricity and at least she knows he’s still alive. She hates the way her mind adds on _for now_ and tries to push the thought away. 

Santana comes flying at her, tossing fireballs as she runs and tries to pull her to her feet, dragging her over to take cover behind one of the desks in the corner. 

“I don’t think we’re going to win,” Santana says, ducking as a file cabinet flies through the air over their heads. She opens her mouth again but no words come out, her jaw working silently for a moment. The Big Sister screams again.

“Britt, I have to tell you—”

“I know,” she replies quickly, grabbing for Santana’s hand and squeezing it for a second before she lets go and throws ice in the direction of the Big Sister. She doesn’t know if it hits.

She turns back and meets Santana’s eyes, forgetting everything else, just for a moment. “Me too,” she says, with as much feeling as she can, and sees the tiniest hint of a smile flash over Santana’s face.

“Okay,” Santana nods, and stares out into the room again, at Sam trying his best to hit the Big Sister as it flips over his head. “Together?”

“Always,” Brittany says, and reaches for Santana’s hand.

+

Somehow, all three of them manage to hit her with their plasmids at once, and she jolts as the flames lick up her suit, slowing down as she shakes off the ice, breaking the blocks that form around her limbs. She shakes it off like it’s nothing, stumbling a little and then coming back to her feet like a wounded animal. She screams that terrible scream again, and Santana reaches for her hand where they stand side by side. She holds on so tight it hurts, all of their knuckles white.

The Big Sister waves her arm and a desk flies towards them, hitting the door behind them and cracking the glass where Brittany froze it earlier. She turns towards it without thinking, because Ashley is still in there and she needs to know if she’s okay. She sees a scientist handing a little blonde haired girl in a pretty blue dress—a little blonde haired girl that she was supposed to protect—one of the ADAM gathering needles, and when the girl turns her eyes glow yellow.

She feels like everything stops as she stares at the girl, her chest tight as she struggles to breathe.

“Don’t look,” Santana says, pulling her back. Dimly, she feels Santana’s arm wrap around her back, her left arm, and she knows that means she’s not the only one who’s given up.

She hears Sam’s gun firing and it takes her a second to realise that it’s stopped, and she sees him toss it away, all the ammunition spent. The girl that used to be Sam’s sister scrambles up to where the glass is broken in the door and disappears through the hole. Sam watches her go and then meets Brittany’s eyes, and Brittany’s pretty sure her eyes are dead the same way Sam’s are, now.

“ _You’ve been very thorough test subjects. Ryan Industries thanks you for your sacrifice_ ,” Ryan says on the radio, and the Big Sister tilts her head, waiting to see what they’re going to do.

She feels numb. She wants to close her eyes and just give in, but there’s some tiny spark inside her that clings to life and she can’t. Santana’s grip on her hand tightens.

“ _You would have been excellent candidates for plasmid testing_ ,” Ryan says, like he’s genuinely disappointed. “ _But you chose your path_.”

The Big Sister lifts her arms over her head and three of the filing cabinets slide towards her, shaking as she uses her telekinesis to lift them over her head. They rotate slowly while the Big Sister looks at them, at the three of them, so small and broken, in front of her.

Brittany wonders if Stacy and Ashley are waiting to extract the ADAM from their bodies after they die. Angels, they’d call them. She pushes the thought away.

The filing cabinets shift in the air while the Big Sister waits.

“Just fucking do it,” Santana says brokenly, and when Brittany turns to her, there are tears on her cheeks, leaving wet tracks down her face.

Brittany can’t stop herself from reaching up to wipe them away. 

_She’s still beautiful_ , she thinks, maybe for the last time.

The door to the room that holds Ashley and Stacy opens and the two girls peer out at the scene in front of them, clutching their needles as the Scientist watches impassively over their heads. Brittany wonders for a moment if she’d be able to freeze him before the Big Sister attacks. She thinks she could, and at least she’d take out the man responsible for turning her sister into a monster before she died.

It’d almost be worth it.

The two girls look up at them with innocent expressions, and she thinks she hears Stacy say, “After the angels, we need to find our Daddies.”

Sam turns to look at them, an unreadable expression on his face before he looks up at the security camera Ryan is watching them from and then back to the girls. The Big Sister moves her hand and the filing cabinets lift a little, spinning a little quicker as she watches them.

She sees all the movement but she doesn’t understand what it means. She feels empty and hollowed out, and she wonders if this is what they did to Ashley before they filled her with whatever awful thing that lives inside her now.

Sam takes a step towards the Little Sisters, his hands raised placatingly in front of him. Stacy’s glowing eyes turn to peer up at him slowly. “You’re not my Daddy,” she says, but there’s a trace of doubt in her voice.

“Sam,” Santana says quickly, only Brittany doesn’t understand why.

“Sam, don’t!” she says, and then Sam turns to look up at the security camera.

“I want to volunteer for the Protector Program. I want to be their Big Daddy. Just let my friends go.”

The Big Sister drops the filing cabinets to the floor as Ryan’s radio crackles to life. Brittany feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room and she can’t catch her breath, her heart beating against her chest furiously, as she presses a hand to it to try and calm it down.

“ _Each Protector escorts one Little Sister. Pick one of them, and we can come to some sort of arrangement_ ,” Ryan says, but she can hear the interest in his voice.

“Sam, don’t let them turn you into a monster. Sam, don’t do this, please,” Santana sobs next to her, but Sam ignores her, looking over at Brittany like he’s apologising. She gets it. He has to protect his own sister.

“I choose her,” Sam says, pointing at Ashley, and Brittany doesn’t understand at all.

+

The Big Sister stops fighting like a dog called to heel, and just stands there silently watching as guards flood into the room, all their weapons pointed at the three of them. 

“Ryan, do I have your word,” Sam is saying as Santana continues to sob at him to stop. “I killed one of the Big Daddies so I’ll take his place, but you let my friends go. Do I have your word?” Brittany doesn’t know that the word of a man like Andrew Ryan is worth very much at all.

“ _You have my word. Lucy, escort the ladies outside_.” 

She wonders who Lucy is for half a second, before the Big Sister looks at them and she gets it with a jolt. Santana is still crying next to her, staring at Sam and shaking her head like that will make it stop.

“Follow me,” the Big Sister says, the sound echoing weirdly inside the helmet, and some distant part of Brittany’s mind almost recognises the voice. 

“Sam,” Santana says and reaches for him, clinging to him tightly as Sam hugs her back. After a second, he starts trying to pry her off but she just clings tighter, and Sam looks at Brittany over the top of Santana’s head, silently asking for help.

She hates herself as she pulls Santana back, but she knows Santana won’t fight her, and she’s right; Santana turns to bury her head in Brittany’s shoulder as she continues to cry, mumbling incoherently as Brittany tries her best to hold her.

“I’ll protect them,” Sam says, “I swear I’ll protect them. I chose Ashley because some part of Stacy remembers me. She’ll remember me, after—” He swallows, and Brittany’s vision swims as she blinks quickly. “You get the hell out of here. Get to the surface and get out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” Brittany says, even though it’s not enough. It will never be enough.

“Go!” Sam yells, and shoves them both, until they’re staggering after the Big Sister and out into the labs.

The last time she sees him, he’s on his knees in front of Ashley and Stacy, trying his best not to cry as he holds his hand out to them palm first. Just before she loses sight of him, she thinks she sees the girl who used to be her sister reach out to take it.

+

She doesn’t see anything on the way out. There’s a blur of men and white walls and stairs, harsh lights and harsher faces, the Big Sister leading the way as everyone shrinks back from her.

Santana’s still crying as she walks, stumbling over her own feet. Brittany hasn’t let go of her hand since she thought they were going to die.

Since she thinks part of her did die, back there with Ashley.

The room where Santana torched the man earlier is suspiciously clean now, like someone went to great pains to tidy it up. Brittany stares but Santana doesn’t even notice, rubbing her hand against her tear-stained cheeks as she walks.

The Big Sister stops at the front door and says something to the guards, and they all move away, leaving nothing between Brittany and Santana and the rest of Rapture.

“Go,” the Big Sister hisses, and when Brittany stares into her helmet she gets the faintest impression of dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes staring back. 

She remembers another little girl years ago, without someone like Sam to protect her.

“Go,” the Big Sister says again, more harshly than before, and Brittany wonders if she remembers her too.

Santana jerks next to her, and takes a step, then another, the way their hands are joined forcing Brittany to follow. 

Neither of them look back. They just keep walking until they can’t anymore, and then they collapse in the ruins of a shop front and hold each other as they cry.

+

She can’t think about Sam, or Ashley, or Stacy. She can’t think about what’s happening to them back in that lab. Santana stumbles along next to her once they start moving again, staring without really seeing anything, and Brittany knows the feeling.

She takes Santana’s hand, feeling the ice and fire come up against each other and find their balance, and after a minute, Santana turns to look at her, desperate and hopeless.

“Together,” Brittany whispers, and Santana just squeezes her hand tighter.

“Always,” she whispers, only her voice breaks over the word.


	7. epilogue

They find their way back to Hestia and stand in front of what was the Orphanage, staring at the bombed out husk of a building as Santana trembles next to her, the flames flaring up around her hand. 

She remembers Ryan saying something about Atlas blowing things up and slumps to the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest and wondering how long it’ll be before the splicers come for them too.

She doesn’t even think she’d fight them off, if they came now.

Santana picks her way into the ruins and stays there for a long time, though Brittany doesn’t know what she’s looking for. She comes back with a half burnt ribbon in her hand, the same colour as the dress Rachel had been wearing when they last saw her, and Brittany pretends not to see when she pushes it deep into the pocket of her trousers and keeps her hand there, like she can’t stand to let it go.

“Come on,” Santana says, and there’s determination in her voice that wasn’t there before. “We need to find a Bathysphere.”

She wants to just lie down and sleep and never wake up, but Santana reaches for her hands and tugs, and then they’re moving again.

+

Santana won’t let them sleep, and Brittany presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to get them to focus again. She sees ghosts everywhere, three blonde haired girls and Sam standing over them, but she knows they’d be worse in her nightmares so she just forces herself to put one foot in front of the other, and catches Santana when she stumbles. 

Apollo Square is deserted now, the burnt out metro car sitting on the tracks the only sign that anything’s wrong. Santana keeps her hand braced in front of her as they get closer to the Bathysphere station, but there’s no one around. 

Or at least she thinks there’s no one around.

“Look, boys. Fresh meat!” a splicer shouts when the door opens, and neither of them says anything as they attack, just uses their plasmids to stop them or kill them or both, until there are four more bodies that they’re standing in the middle of and Brittany wonders when this became her life.

Santana goes through their pockets and tosses Brittany a pep bar, but her stomach churns at the thought so she just drops it in her jacket pocket instead. She can’t remember the last time that she ate. 

Her wrist itches, and she wonders if they’ve got any EVE left. 

“Bathysphere,” Santana says, leading the way, and Brittany steps inside, waiting for the door to shut behind them.

+

Santana slumps to her knees once the door locks and the Bathysphere starts to rise, and Brittany collapses back against her, until Santana wraps her arm around her and they’re leaning back against the block that holds the controls.

The water gets less murky the higher they go, and Brittany watches the fish swim past the porthole, almost like they’re flying.

“We made it,” Santana says, and Brittany knows what she means is, _the others didn’t_ , but if she thinks of that she’ll start crying all over again.

 _I’m so sorry, Ash_ , she thinks, and she squeezes her eyes shut, offering up a silent prayer that wherever Sam is, he’s protecting her like he said he would. 

“I wish—” Brittany says, but Santana reaches for her with her left hand, and she feels that same tingling sensation when the fire hits the ice, the uncomfortable feeling that they fit together, like they’ve completed some kind of circuit. 

“I know,” Santana mumbles, and neither of them needs to say anything after that.

+

They stay there until the Bathysphere docks and the door opens with a slow clunk, swinging forward into the visitor’s center, the same one she very vaguely remembers from when she was a kid and her parents brought her here before Ashley was even born. 

Santana’s the first one on her feet, and she pulls Brittany up after her, not letting go of her hand. The room’s empty apart from two television screens playing the story of Rapture mounted above the doors, and they head for the stairs slowly, Santana’s free hand on the pistol at her waist. 

She sees the banner over the statue of Ryan’s face carved into the stone walls, reads the words NO GODS OR KINGS ONLY MAN, and she tightens her grip on Santana’s hand, feeling the ice meet fire again. There are no men left down there now.

They’re alone, and they climb the huge stone steps towards the door to the outside world slowly, taking more effort than they thought it would to put one foot in front of the other. Santana’s hand tightens on hers again before she pushes the heavy door open, inch by slow inch, and they both blink at the sight that greets them.

They’re standing at the foot of a tower, and when she squints up she can see the stone man on top, almost higher than she can see, announcing it as part of Ryan’s empire. 

“Britt,” Santana says quietly, and then she starts laughing, hysterical and broken somehow in this way Santana’s laugh was never supposed to be. It’s only then that she allows herself to slowly turn around in a complete circle, her eyes sliding over the horizon as she spins, and accept the fact that all she can see is water, that they’re absolutely alone in the middle of the ocean with no idea how to get anywhere else, and she stands there as Santana sinks down to her knees, crying now as much as she’s laughing.

“Why did we go through all that,” Santana says, each word punctuated by a sob, “Just to end up in the middle of the ocean. Why did we lose everyone, _everyone_ , just to end up here.”

She doesn’t know what to say, but as she stands there the sun breaks over the horizon and even that quiets Santana, as they both stare at the thing they haven’t seen since they were nine years old.

“Fuck,” Santana says, wide-eyed, and Brittany just laughs because what else can she do?

They stand there for long moments, neither of them moving. Brittany watches the water stretching out in all directions, and turns her head to find Santana, at the way the light glints off her hair.

 _She looks beautiful_ , she thinks.

The sounds of the story of Rapture float up to them from the visitor center, the music mixing with the sounds of waves lapping against the base of their tower, and she offers her hand to Santana, smiling when Santana glances at her, confused.

“Dance with me?” she says, and Santana’s mouth opens but no sound comes out, so she just takes Santana’s hand and pulls her to her feet and then into her arms, and after a second, Santana’s hands find her waist and hold on, her fingers pressing into the skin.

Brittany rests her forehead against Santana’s, closer than they’ve ever been before, and then she finds the hinge of Santana’s jaw with her left hand and tilts her head up and kisses her, because it’s the only thing left to do. Santana stills against her before she starts to kiss her back, slow and clumsy at first before she pulls them closer together. She makes a noise against her lips and Brittany hates the way she thinks that maybe this was worth it after all, for the feel of Santana’s mouth hot against hers.

She won’t forget it for as long as she lives.

+

They dance until the sun is all the way up, until their feet ache, until they can’t anymore, and then they go back inside, blinking against the way the light burns their eyes, and sit back against the wall opposite the door, watching the light dance over the waves.


End file.
